••-I     A 

FA 

B*R  A  "N  Til 
xv,-r^  A^V  j^f 


HENRIETTA 
DANA   SKINNER 


36  3 


FAITH  BRANDON 


FAITH   BRANDON 


FAITH   BRANDON 

A     NOVEL 

BY 

HENRIETTA    DANA   SKINNER 

AUTHOR   OF 
"  ESPntlTD  SANTO,"  "  HEART  AND  SOUL,"  ETC. 


"  We  were  created  to  love  the  Infinite; 
that  is  why,  when  we  love,  that  which 
we  love  seems  so  perfect  to  our  hearts." 
LACORDAIRE 


NEW    YORK    AND    LONDON 
D.     APPLETON     AND      COMPANY 

1912 


COPYRIGHT,  1912,  BY. 
D.  APPLETON  AND   COMPAQ  Y 


Published,  April,  1913 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


THIS   STORY 

IS   DEDICATED  TO 

THE   FRIENDS  AND  ACQUAINTANCE 

WHO  INSPIRED  IT 


2138378  ' 


CONTENTS 


PART  I. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I. —  THE  VISION  or  FAITH   ....  3 

II. —  LITTLE  COMRADE 13 

III.— THE  "FAIR-SUN" 31 

IV. — THE  LUDLOWS  AND  BRANDONS       .       ..  46 

V. —  THE  HEART  or  A  SCHOOLGIRL       .        .  55 

VI. — ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE     ...  68 

VII. — STEPSISTERS 82 

VIII. —  THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT    ...  97 

IX. —  MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON     .        .        .        .114 

X. — "  BACKTISCHLY  " 133 

PART  II. 

XI. —  A  BOLT  FROM  THE  BLUE       .        .        .152 

XII. — THE  LAST  STRAW  .  .  .  .  .  167 
XIII.— A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH  .  .  .  .181 
XIV. — His  LIFE'S  RELATIONS  ....  199 

XV. — VISITORS 212 

XVI.— ISOLDE 228 

XVII.— TRISTAN 242 

XVIII.— FIDES 260 

XIX. —  REPARATION  .  .  .  .  .  .275 

XX. —  ST.  GEORGE  THE  VICTORIOUS  288 


CONTENTS 
PART  III. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXI. —  THE  BISHOP  INTERFERES       .        .        .301 

XXII. —  PRISONERS 315 

XXIII.— VYERA 331 

XXIV.— TRUE  LOVE 343 

XXV. —  AFTER  MANY  YEARS      .        .        .        .357 
XXVI. — THE  BISHOP  RELENTS    .        .        .        .370 

XXVII. —  THE  DELAYED  LETTER 384 

XXVIIL— THE  WORTH  OF  A  HEART      .        .        .403 
XXIX.— ON  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF  FAITH       .        .    414 


FAITH  BRANDON 


FAITH  BRANDON 

PART    I 
CHAPTER  I 

THE     VISION    OF    FAITH 

"Dost  them  recall  the  glimmering  moonlight 

On  rocks  the  billows  dash  with  sullen  roar, 
The  rustling  trees  with  drowsy  leaves  alight, 
Close  by  the  garden,  on  the  sea  girt  shore? 
Dost  thou  recall  the  freshness  of  the  hour, 
The  smell  of  roses  and  the  murmuring  brooks, 

The  music  flowing  from  all  nature's  smiles " 

—  Polonsky,  "Night  in  the  Crimea." 

FROM  the  veranda  of  the  Hotel  Miramar,  picturesquely 
situated  on  the  wooded  heights  above  the  Bay  of  Yalta,  two 
men  were  quietly  gazing  at  the  lovely  scene  bathed  in  the 
light  of  the  harvest  moon.  Before  them,  fragrant  with 
blossoming  shrubs,  stretched  a  green  lawn  girdled  by  noble 
cedars  and  palms.  A  broad  path  led  to  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
on  whose  terraced  sides  twinkled  myriad  lights  from  the 
villas  and  gardens  of  the  gay  Crimean  watering-place. 
In  the  background,  like  an  amphitheatre,  rose  one  upon  an- 
other the  purple  crests  of  the  bordering  mountains.  Below 
was  the  sparkling,  jeweled  bay,  its  wavelets  lapping  the  feet 
of  white-faced  cliffs  that  gleamed  as  crystal  in  the  rays 
of  the  moon.  Beyond  the  bay,  like  a  great  dark  emerald, 
shimmered  the  waters  of  the  Black  Sea. 

Surely,  a  night  for  lovers'  dreams!  a  scene  to  evoke  sighs 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and  protestations  of  undying  remembrance!  an  hour  con- 
secrated to  poetry  and  romance !  Yet  from  the  lips  of  the 
younger  of  the  two  men  fell  a  jarring,  discordant  note  —  the 
unsentimental,  prosaic,  cynical  statement: 

"I  am  in  no  position  to  marry,  nor  have  I  the  slightest 
desire  to  seek  a  wife." 

He  was  not  beyond  the  age  of  romance,  nor  did  he  look 
like  a  man  in  whom  the  fires  of  youth  had  early  burned 
themselves  out.  He  appeared  to  be  in  the  prime  of  a  clean, 
strong,  thoughtful  young  manhood.  About  thirty  years 
of  age,  tall  and  largely  built  of  frame,  alert  and  well-poised 
of  bearing,  his  face  revealed  itself  in  the  half-shadow  of  the 
moonlit  night  as  being  strong  and  pleasing  rather  than 
especially  handsome,  although  the  large  and  somewhat 
irregular  features  were  well-redeemed  from  plainness  and 
heaviness  by  their  clear  cut,  spirited  outlines,  the  short  upper 
lip  and  the  high  arch  of  the  nostrils  marking  a  type  of  counte- 
nance generally  designated  as  "aristocratic."  The  mouth 
was  shaded  by  a  long,  fair  moustache,  and  the  short  hair 
that  waved  about  his  high-built,  well-developed  head  and 
clever  brow  was  of  the  same  fair  hue.  His  was  a  gentleman- 
like, distinguished  figure,  with  the  simple,  unassuming  grace 
of  manner  that  is  the  hall-mark  of  the  highest  cosmopolitan 
breeding. 

His  companion,  a  man  of  some  forty-five  years,  was  also 
fair,  but  of  a  bluffer,  more  florid  type.  He  was  inclined  to 
stoutness  and  was  decidedly  bald,  while  his  light  hair  and 
moustache  had  a  distinctly  auburn  tint.  His  genial  counte- 
nance bore  at  that  moment  a  perturbed  expression.  It  was. 
evident  that  he  was  not  in  sympathy  with  his  companion's 
sentiment  —  or  lack  of  sentiment. 

"Come,  come!  Brother,"  he  said,  gruffly  but  good- 
naturedly.  "You  are  making  yourself  a  martyr  to  your 
career.  I  confess  I  cannot  see  why  it  should  condemn  you 
to  a  life  of  celibacy.  Other  men  in  your  calling  manage  to 


THE   VISION  OF  FAITH 

have  wife  and  home,  and  yet  do  justice  to  their  work  and 
advance  in  their  careers." 

"Of  what  use  would  wife  or  home  be  to  me,"  rejoined  the 
younger  man,  in  a  tone  of  laughing  inquiry,  "when  my  prin- 
cipal occupation  will  be  in  getting  away  from  both  as  fre- 
quently and  as  far  as  possible?  I  am  likely  to  be  sent  from 
one  end  of  the  civilized  world  to  the  other  at  an  hour's 
notice,  to  be  gone  weeks  and  months  at  a  time.  Pray,  where 
would  home  and  wife  come  in?" 

"Take  her  with  you! "  suggested  the  other.  "A  wife  may 
be  a  very  desirable  traveling  companion  on  occasions." 

"It  will  not  be  all  trains  de  luxe  on  the  special  missions  of 
the  Foreign  Office,"  retorted  the  young  man,  shrugging 
his  shoulders.  "Marriage  would  be  difficult  enough  even 
if  I  remained  in  the  diplomatic  service,  where  one  is  fre- 
quently changing  headquarters,  always  exiled  from  one's 
country,  and  bringing  up  one's  children  among  aliens.  But 
a  peripatetic  home  in  trains  and  hotels  is  something  I  have 
no  fancy  for,  and  a  woman  would  probably  fancy  it  even  less. 
It  would  end  in  virtual  separation.  In  some  unhappy  house- 
holds such  separation  might  not  be  unwelcome;  but  it  is 
not  of  such  that  you  or  I  are  dreaming,  Brother." 

They  spoke  to  each  other  familiarly  as  "thou"  and 
"brother,"  but  it  was  in  the  affectionate  intimacy  of  their 
race  and  language.  There  was  plainly  no  relationship  be- 
tween them  but  that  of  friend  and  comrade. 

"No  true  wife  begrudges  her  husband  his  life  work," 
declared  the  older  man,  hi  the  tone  of  one  who  spoke  from 
experience.  "There  are  obstacles  to  be  overcome  in  mat- 
rimony just  as  in  any  other  career;  but,  believe  me,  your 
wife  will  find  her  happiness  in  smoothing  your  path  as  far 
as  hi  her  lies.  She  will  realize  that  you  belong  to  your  coun- 
try and  to  the  public,  and  that  she  herself  is  serving  them  in 
serving  you.  She  will  go  with  you  when  she  can,  she  will 
spare  you  when  she  must." 


FAITH  BRANDON 

The  young  man's  keen,  light-blue  eyes  smiled  pleasantly 
out  at  his  friend  from  under  their  long,  curved  lashes. 
"You  are  an  enthusiast  for  matrimony,  and  rightly  so,"  he 
said.  "But  remember,  where  you  have  drawn  a  prize  in 
the  marriage  lottery  others  have  drawn  blanks  !' ' 

"Yes,  I  am  an  enthusiast.  I  don't  deny  it,"  admitted 
his  friend  with  hearty  frankness.  "The  family  life  is 
God's  ordinance.  Europe  would  have  a  happier,  more 
Christian  civilization  to-day  if  all  her  young  men  married 
and  founded  homes  as  soon  as  they  were  of  age. " 

"'It  is  better  to  marry  than  to  burn,'"  quoted  the  other, 
laughingly.  "But  you  would  not  thrust  all  celibates  into 
hell-fire?  Some  of  us  may  have  the  sense  to  keep  away 
from  the  flames!"  he  added,  with  a  certain  proud  disdain 
in  tone  and  bearing.  "You  respect  celibacy  in  the  clois- 
ter. Is  it  not  all  a  question  of  motive?  What  if  I  believe 
I  can  serve  my  country  more  disinterestedly,  both  in  my 
official  and  my  literary  life,  if  I  am  not  bound  down  by 
home  ties,  not  obliged  for  my  family's  sake  to  sacrifice  my 
freedom  of  thought  and  action  to  considerations  of  policy? 
As  a  bachelor,  I  have  a  heart  for  any  fate.  As  a  married 
man  I  should  be  in  continual  fear  of  jeopardizing  my 
position  and  its  emoluments.  My  patrimony  is  not  large 
enough  to  make  me  independent  of  a  salary  if  I  have 
others  to  consider." 

"I  give  you  credit  for  your  desire  to  battle  for  ideals 
and  convictions  and  principles,"  interrupted  the  older  man 
impatiently,  "but  it  is  one  thing  to  fight  and  another  thing 
to  fight  well.  If  you  aspire  to  be  of  service  to  humanity 
you  must  know  and  share  its  sorrows  and  joys,  its  trials 
and  sacred  rewards.  You  must  yourself  be  developed  by  a 
life  of  the  affections  and  the  soul, —  the  family  life." 

The  keen  blue  eyes  of  the  younger  man  softened.  He 
began  to  pace  the  veranda  with  short,  rapid  steps.  He  was 
singularly  light  on  his  feet  for  one  of  his  height  and  build, 

6 


THE  VISION  OF  FAITH 

and  there  was  an  air  of  mingled  grace  and  energy  in  his 
movements. 

"I  am  taking  that  into  account,"  he  insisted.  "I  have 
known  family  life  at  its  holiest  and  best,  its  affections  and 
companionships,  and  the  sorrow  of  their  loss.  I  feel  that 
those  hours  of  desolation,  as  well  as  the  hours  of  joy,  the 
prayers  at  my  mother's  knee,  my  father's  counsels,  aye,  and 
his  whippings,  too !  have  all  been  part  of  my  preparation  for 
the  work  I  hope  to  do  in  life.  And  I  am  not  without  present 
human  ties.  I  have  the  dear,  invalid  uncle  who  has  been  a 
second  father  to  me;  I  have  my  widowed  sister  and  her  little 
ones;  I  have  friends  and  relatives  to  whom  I  am  warmly 
attached.  Will  not  these  suffice?  " 

His  friend  also  fell  to  pacing  the  floor.  For  a  while  he  was 
silent,  then  he  broke  out  earnestly. 

"I  tell  you  how  it  is,  Brother.  These  things  have  their 
place  in  your  life,  and  a  very  good  place  it  is,  but  they  are 
not  your  own.  We  men,  whatever  our  work  and  however 
earnest  we  are  about  it,  fall  horribly  short  of  our  ideals. 
Take  my  own  case.  My  life  is  thought  to  be  a  successful 
one.  I  have  served  in  the  army  with  distinction;  I  have 
held  high  office  at  court;  my  estate  is  well  ordered;  the 
peasants  are  healthy  and  contented.  But,  have  I  lived 
up  to  my  ideals?  No!  I  have  had  opportunities  which  I 
have  not  grasped,  I  have  not  always  done  my  best,  and 
even  my  best  efforts  have  often  failed.  Well,  I  return  to 
my  home,  my  heart  heavy  with  a  sense  of  much  left  un- 
done; and  there  I  find  myself  living  again  in  six  little  lives 
for  which  I  am  responsible.  Six  little  souls  to  train  for  their 
God  and  their  country  with  all  the  strength  of  a  father's 
affection  and  a  mother's  prayers,  —  that  is  the  only  real 
success  of  my  career!  In  the  eyes  of  others  they  may 
appear  to  be  very  commonplace  children;  but  in  mine  they 
typify  Hope,  Love,  and  the  redemption  of  all  that  is  wasted 
and  unworthy  in  my  past!" 

7 


FAITH  BRANDON 

And  the  good  man  mopped  the  perspiration  from  his  bald 
brow,  and  was  not  ashamed  of  the  tear  that  rolled  from  his 
cheek  to  his  broad  shirt-front. 

The  younger  man  surveyed  his  friend  with  a  flush  of 
enthusiastic  approval.  "Heart  of  gold!"  he  exclaimed, 
throwing  his  arm  about  the  other's  shoulders  and  embrac- 
ing him  with  affectionate  warmth.  Both  men  were  of  a  race 
alive  with  vital  human  instincts,  whose  hearts  beat  more 
warmly,  whose  sentiments  are  expressed  more  straight- 
forwardly than  those  of  a  more  coldly  calculating  and 
sophisticated  civilization. 

"I  have  spoken  of  my  unsettled  life,"  resumed  the 
younger  after  a  moment,  in  a  low,  troubled  voice,  "of  my 
desire  for  independence.  But  there  is  a  third  reason  why 
I  shrink  from  matrimony.  Brother,  I  am  afraid!" 

"Afraid?"  echoed  his  friend  in  astonishment. 

"My  life, since  I  entered  the  diplomatic  career,"  continued 
the  young  man,  "has  been  spent  in  the  great- world  of  our 
modern  courts  and  capitals,  amid  the  false  glitter  and  fas- 
cination of  its  society.  How  many  fair,  young  married 
lives  have  I  not  seen  morally  poisoned  by  this  vitiated  air! 
Yet  my  home  must  of  necessity  be  in  one  of  these 
capitals,  where  I  must  leave  a  young  wife,  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  time  alone,  exposed  to  all  its  worldly  and  corrupt- 
ing influences.  Shall  I  shut  her  up  in  four  walls  and  make  her 
lead  an  unnatural  life,  deprived  of  all  social  advantages  and 
companionship?  Or  shall  I  give  up  the  labors  and  interests 
of  my  manhood  for  the  sake  of  a  woman's  worldly  pleasures? 
Neither  course  would  be  reasonable.  Yet,  if  I  let  her  go  into 
this  whirlpool  alone,  I  can  foresee  that  the  end  will  be — 
shipwreck!"  His  countenance  darkened;  a  bitter  smile 
parted  his  lips;  his  blue  eyes,  usually  so  keen  and  pleasant, 
looked  down  gloomily. 

The  older  man  frowned  thoughtfully.  "You  have  had  a 
surfeit  of  fashionable  high-life  and  have  found  it  —  Vanity, 

8 


THE  VISION  OF  FAITH 

though  I  can  assure  you  that  the  world,  flesh,  and  devil 
may  also  flourish  in  provincial  life!"  He  sighed,  then, 
rousing  himself,  added  cheerily:  "But  come!  Let  this 
glorious  moonlight  flood  into  your  young  heart,  which  is 
drying  up  before  its  prime!  Let  the  beauty  of  God's  world 
put  a  little  of  the  faith  and  courage  of  romance  into  your 
too  reasoning  and  apprehensive  soul!" 

"I  fear,"  smiled  the  other,  "that  I  am  a  very  matter-of- 
fact  fellow.  For  instance,  I  enjoy  moonlight  as  moonlight, 
but  I  fail  to  see  its  virtues  in  connection  with  one's  matri- 
monial ventures!  If  ever  I  choose  a  wife, far  as  that  thought 
is  from  me  at  present,  it  will  not  be  by  the  light  of  the  moon. 
It  will  be  by  the  broad  light  of  noon-day,  the  choice  of  careful 
consideration,  and  not  the  sudden  fancy  of  a  summer  dream!" 

"You  will  choose  your  wife  as  God  wills!"  retorted  the 
other,  gayly.  "No  man  can  tell  when  his  hour  is  going  to 
strike.  It  is  upon  him  before  he  knows! " 

From  a  distant  veranda,  across  the  shady  lawn,  mingling 
with  the  sound  of  plashing  fountain  and  murmuring  waves 
could  be  heard  the  tinkling  of  a  balalaika,  accompanying 
a  mellow,  baritone  voice  in  the  lines  of  Shenshin's  "Tryst." 

"A  whisper,  a  gentle  sigh  — 

Trills  of  the  nightingale; 
The  silver  flash  of  the  brook, 

Asleep  in  the  drowsy  vale. 
The  shadows  and  shine  of  night  — 

Shadows  in  endless  race; 
The  sweet  of  a  magical  change 

Over  a  sweet  young  face! 
The  blush  of  a  rose  in  the  mist  — 

An  amber  gleam  on  the  lawn; 
A  rush  of  kisses  and  tears  — 

And  oh,  the  Dawn!  the  Dawn!" 

The'two  men,  standing  quietly  together  in  the  deep  shadow 
of  the  veranda  roof,  listened  till  the  love  song  reached  its 
ecstatic  close.  Then  the  older  man  turned  cheerily  to  his 
comrade. 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"  Heart's  Brother,  you  must  have  faith!  You  have  not 
met '  the  one  woman '  yet,  —  that  is  what  ails  you !  When 
she  steps  into  your  life  all  your  doubts  and  difficulties  will 
vanish  into  thin  air.  At  present  you  are  embittered,  and  I 
do  not  blame  you;  for  I,  also,  know  the  evils  of  modern 
society  life  in  the  great  capitals.  But  there  are  women, 
and  young  women,  too,  who  bear  themselves  unstained 
through  it  all.  Only  choose  the  right  one  and  then  —  have 
faith!  Trust  her  to  go  her  way,  as  she  must  trust  you  to 
go  yours.  Let  the  motto  of  your  married  life  be  'Fides.1 
I  repeat  —  have  faith,  and  again  —  have  faith!" 

"I  should  require  Faith  indeed!"  replied  the  younger 
man,  with  a  slightly  skeptical  smile. 

Into  the  broad  path  flooded  by  moonlight,  stepped  a 
young  girl,  advancing  toward  them  with  upraised  face, — 
a  school-maiden  with  braided  hair,  whose  yellow  frock  lacked 
two  or  three  inches  of  reaching  her  ankles.  The  face  raised 
toward  them  was  serious,  almost  too  serious  for  its  whole- 
some, childish  contours;  the  magnificent  eyes  were  grave  and 
deep;  the  young,  undeveloped  figure  was  straight  and  strong; 
the  noble  young  head  was  carried  with  almost  regal  dignity. 
She  came  fearlessly  on  to  the  foot  of  the  veranda  steps. 
It  was  evident  to  the  two  men  that  she  could  not  see  them 
standing  in  the  heavy  shadow. 

Just  over  their  heads  a  window  was  suddenly  raised. 

"Faith!"  called  a  cheery  voice  in  English;  "Faith!  is  it 
you?" 

The  young  maiden  glanced  upward.  It  seemed  to  the 
watching  figures  on  the  veranda  as  if  she  were  gazing  di- 
rectly at  them,  rather  than  at  the  open,  lighted  window  above 
their  heads.  Her  lips  parted  in  a  sudden,  radiant  smile, 
a  smile  transfiguring  the  youthful  face,  inundating  it  with 
freshness  and  delight,  the  splendid  eyes  luminous  with 
laughter. 

10 


THE  VISION  OF  FAITH 

In  sweet,  musical  tones  the  pleasant,  fresh  young  voice 
with  a  rippling  note  of  merriment  running  through  it,  called 
back  in  soft  answer. 

"It  is  I!    It  is  Faith!    I  am  coming!" 

She  sprang  lightly  up  the  steps,  straight  toward  the 
younger  of  the  two  men.  In  another  moment  her  head 
would  have  been  against  his  breast. 

He  stepped  forward  out  of  the  shadow.  The  moonlight 
fell  full  on  his  tall,  shapely  frame  and  his  fair,  strong,  pleas- 
ant countenance.  She  stopped  short,  bewildered  by  the 
sudden  apparition,  and  gazed  up  at  him  with  a  shy,  startled 
look  in  the  lovely  eyes. 

He  stood  aside,  politely  removing  his  hat.  Then  look- 
ing down  into  the  sweet,  frightened  face  below  him,  he  bent 
his  head  and  smiled,  with  a  reassuringly  kind  and  winning 
smile,  his  blue  eyes,  full  of  friendliness  and  mirth,  glancing 
down  sideways  at  her  from  under  their  long,  curving 
lashes. 

For  a  moment  she  continued  unconsciously  to  gaze  as 
if  fascinated  into  the  face  above  her.  Then  her  eyes  fell 
before  his  tender,  mischievous  glance;  and,  blushing  deeply, 
she  made  him  a  demure  courtesy  and  with  a  murmur  of 
apology,  half-laughing,  half-embarrassed,  turned  and  hurried 
into  the  house. 

The  young  man's  look  followed  her  with  mingled  admira- 
tion and  amusement  till  she  had  disappeared  into  the  hall. 
Then  he  replaced  his  hat  and,  without  a  word  to  his  friend, 
walked  slowly,  thoughtfully  down  the  veranda  steps  and 
out  on  to  the  moonlit  sward. 

The  older  man  watched  him  amazedly,  his  genial  coun- 
tenance at  last  breaking  into  a  broad  grin. 

"I  need  not  have  wasted  my  breath  giving  him  sentimen- 
tal advice,"  he  said  to  himself.  "He  needs  no  teach- 
ing!" 

He  hastened  to  join  his  friend,  and  they  sauntered  on  to- 


FAITH  BRANDON 

gether  a  while  in  silence.    Then  the  younger  man's  lips 
parted  and  he  hummed  softly: 

"The  sweet  of  a  magical  change 

Over  a  sweet  young  face! 
The  blush  of  a  rose  in  the  mist  — 
An  amber  gleam  on  the  lawn — " 

The  older  man's  shoulders  shook  and  his  hand  went  up 
to  his  moustache. 

After  a  moment  the  younger  man  turned  abruptly  to 
his  friend. 

"Grigori  Sergevich,"*  he  exclaimed,  "I  shall  take  your 
advice!  I  will  have  Faith!" 

The  other  man  chuckled  softly  to  himself.  "O  Human 
Nature!"  he  thought.  "Poor  Human  Nature!  How  the 
best-laid  plans  and  the  wisest  resolutions  of  the  best  of  men 
go  down  before  your  mighty  attraction!" 

But  what  he  said  aloud  was,  "Certainly!  have  faith  by  all 
means,  my  dear  Lyeff !  f  Have  all  the  virtues  —  Faith  in  the 
present,  Hope  for  the  future,  Love  always!  But  especially 
have  faith  in  your  Destiny,  even  though, "  here  he  smiled 
broadly  and  undisguisedly,  "even  though  it  meet  you  by 
moonlight  —  'the  sudden  fancy  of  a  summer  dream! ' " 

*  Gregory,  son  of  Sergius.    The  accent  denotes  the  syllable  on  which 
the  stress  should  be  laid.     Pronounce  Gree-g6r-ee  Sairg-yay-evitch. 
f  Lev,  pronounced  in  one  syllable  L'yeff,  Leo  or  Lionel. 


12 


CHAPTER  H 

LITTLE   COMRADE 

"Oh,  you  St.  Petersburg  conquerors!  One  glance  from  your  eyes 
and  the  women  melt." 

—  Lermontojf,  "A  Modern  Hero" 

"On,  fie!  fie!  Shut  up  in  the  house  this  lovely  day!" 
exclaimed  a  plump,  good-humored  looking  woman,  about 
thirty-three  or  four  years  of  age,  coming  into  the  room  in 
lively,  breezy  fashion.  "  Faith,  child!  put  up  your  writing 
and  drive  into  the  town  with  me,  or  you  will  have  pale 
cheeks  and  your  sisters  will  scold." 

"They  will  not  dare  to  scold,  dear  Baroness,"  said  Faith. 
"It  will  be  their  own  fault  for  not  taking  me  to  the  Caucasus 
with  them." 

"Poor  little  Cinderella!"  said  Baroness  Stourdza,  consol- 
ingly. "The  proud  stepsisters  have  left  you  behind!  But, 
never  mind!  You  are  young  yet,  Faith,  and  your  turn  will 
come.  Your  prince  will  appear  before  you  know  it." 

Faith  blushed  deeply  and  guiltily,  embarrassed  by  the 
secret  consciousness  of  joy  instead  of  regret  at  having  been 
left  behind.  A  week  ago  she  had  cried  with  disappointment 
and  a  sense  of  injury  when  her  stepsisters'  adverse  deci- 
sion was  made  known  to  her;  but  now  she  was  more  than 
reconciled  to  her  fate,  for  had  not  her  prince  already  ap- 
peared? Had  he  not  recognized  her  and  smiled  into  her  eyes; 
and  did  she  not  already  adore  him  with  all  the  romantic 
fervor  of  sixteen  —  ardent,  hero-worshipping  sixteen?  Had 
she  not  spent  a  goodly  part  of  the  waking  hours  of  the  last 
three  days  in  living  over  in  memory  the  scene  of  their  meeting, 

13 


FAITH  BRANDON 

or  in  hiding  behind  the  Venetian  blinds  of  the  hotel  drawing- 
room  in  the  hopes  of  seeing,  herself  unseen,  her  hero's 
tall,  fair  figure  standing  on  the  veranda  of  the  neighboring 
dacha*  or  crossing  the  green  sward  of  the  shady  lawn  that 
intervened? 

1  But  who  shall  fathom  the  heart  of  a  schoolgirl?  Was 
it  not  equally  true  that  on  half-a-dozen  occasions,  when 
she  might  have  met  him  face  to  face,  she  had  fled  from  him 
as  one  panic-stricken?  When  he  came  in  to  greet  the 
friends  with  whom  she  was  staying,  had  she  not  at  his  en- 
trance slidden  out  of  the  room  in  an  agony  of  shyness?  When 
he  was  seen  approaching  them  on  the  road,  had  she  not 
invented  silly  excuses  for  crossing  the  street  to  avoid  him? 
Verily,  had  he  been  the  Beast  himself,  instead  of  the  Prince 
Charming,  she  could  hardly  have  tried  more  frantically  to 
escape  from  him.  What  was  there  in  his  courteous  and 
agreeable  personality  that  should  thus  fill  her  with  alarms? 
But  so  is  the  heart  of  schoolgirl  made!- 

"Now,  don't  be  impatient,  child!"  said  the  baroness,  as, 
after  inspecting  the  girl's  appearance,  she  twitched  her  skirt 
one  way  and  her  belt  another  and  fastened  her  collar  more 
securely.  "You  must  have  more  vanity  about  your  appear- 
ance." 

"Oh,  bother!"  sighed  Faith.  "I  do  not  mind  how  I 
look!" 

"But  you  should  mind,"  declared  the  baroness.  "These 
little  details  of  dress  show  character  and  good  breeding  as 
surely  as  do  manners  and  morals.  Now  your  manners  and 
morals  are  all  that  can  be  desired,  but  you  are  sadly  lacking 
in  attention  to  the  little  niceties  of  the  toilet  that  speak  for 
so  much." 

Faith's  lips  quivered  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  Since 
mother  died,"  she  said,  chokingly,  "nobody  has  noticed 
how  I  looked  or  taken  the  trouble  to  teach  me  how  to  care 

*  Summer  cottage  or  villa. 

14 


LITTLE  COMRADE 

for  my  things.  I  hate  wearing  my  sisters'  cast-off  frocks, 
but  if  I  complain  they  always  say  'handsome  is  that  hand- 
some does.' " 

"I  know,  I  know,"  interrupted  the  baroness,  soothingly. 
"The  first  day  I  saw  you  at  your  brother's  rooms  in  the 
British  Embassy  at  Constantinople  I  said  to  Kirill  (Kirill 
was  the  baron),  'There  is  a  little  girl  that  needs  mothering,' 
and  I  was  not  surprised  to  find  that  the  ladies  you  were 
traveling  with  were  only  stepsisters.  But  I  can  sympa- 
thize with  you.  I  was  a  wild  Irish  lass,  caring  for  noth- 
ing but  riding  to  hounds,  when  a  dashing  young  Galician 
officer  came  fox-hunting  in  our  county,  and  whisked  me 
off  to  spend  the  rest  of  my  life  in  all  the  conventionality 
of  court  and  diplomatic  circles.  I,  too,  had  everything  to 
learn,  so  cheer  up!  You  are  under  my  care  now  for  six 
weeks,  and  I  am  going  to  give  you  some  points,  though, 
alas,  neither  your  allowance  nor  mine  will  permit  of  ball- 
dresses  and  gold  coaches!  But,  come!  Our  coach,  such  as 
it  is,  stops  the  way!" 

The  low  phaeton,  with  its  small  Tatar  ponies  and  gayly 
dressed  coachman,  stood  in  the  court-yard.  Faith  handed 
the  baroness  into  the  little  vehicle  and  sprang  in  after  her; 
the  Kozak  (Cossack)  driver  signaled  to  his  spirited  ponies, 
and  they  were  soon  being  whisked  rapidly  round  the  long 
zigzags  of  the  hillside  road,  for  the  hotel  Miramar  stood  far 
above  the  town,  in  a  commanding  position  on  the  slope  of 
the  wooded  mountain.  As  the  phaeton  swung  round  the 
sharp  curves  and  jolted  them  mercilessly  from  side  to  side, 
the  two  occupants  held  on  to  each  other  with  little  gasps 
of  alarm  or  little  screams  of  laughter  till  they  arrived  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  where  the  steep  avenue  led  into  the  level  main 
road  running  through  the  centre  of  the  gay  watering  place. 
Then  they  gathered  themselves  together,  straightening  their 
hats  and  skirts;  the  plump,  middle-aged  baroness  as  joyous 
and  breathless  as  the  sixteen-year-old  schoolgirl. 

15 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"Now,  now!  Faith,  behave  yourself!  We  are  coming 
into  town  and  shall  meet  all  the  grandees.  We  must  lean 
back,  look  bored,  and  try  to  appear  as  if  this  was  our  own 
private  turn-out  which  we  were  tired  to  death  of,  and  not 
a  hired  conveyance  which  we  were  enjoying  with  all  our 
might.  Go  slowly,  driver!  slowly!" 

Whether  she  leaned  back  or  stood  up,  whether  she  was  in 
the  carriage  or  out,  Faith  for  one  delirious  moment  did  not 
know;  for  had  she  not  caught  sight  of  a  manly  figure  in  straw 
hat  and  gray  tweeds,  walking  lightly  and  rapidly  along  the 
street  toward  them  —  a  tall  figure,  large  of  limb  and  dis- 
tinguished of  bearing,  with  erect,  well-poised  head  and 
shoulders,  straight,  shapely  legs,  a  trim,  handsome  foot, 
stepping  out  with  singularly  light  and  sure  tread?  Accom- 
panying the  tall  man,  running  and  dancing  gayly  along  to 
keep  pace  with  him,  were  two  children,  a  graceful,  brown- 
haired  boy  of  eight,  and  a  blue-eyed,  sunny-haired  little 
fairy  of  a  girl  a  year  or  two  older.  The  tall  man  stopped 
at  the  kerb  and,  lifting  the  straw  hat  from  his  thick  waves  of 
fair  hair,  stood  still  and  bowed  courteously  as  the  phaeton 
ambled  slowly  by. 

"May  I  ask,  dear  Lyeff  Petrovich,*  if  you  are  personally 
conducting  a  kindergarten?"  called  the  baroness  gayly,  as 
she  returned  his  salute  with  great  cordiality. 

"It  seems  I  am  not  the  only  one! "  retorted  he,  in  a  mellow, 
pleasant  voice,  with  a  note  of  laughing  inquiry. 

"Oh,  we  are  a  select  young  ladies'  academy,  of  which  I  am 
the  discreet  matron,"  she  returned,  smilingly,  then  quickly 
added  in  English,  "My  little  friend  is  Milbanke's  half-sister, 
Miss  Brandon.  Faith,  let  me  present  Prince  Solntsoff  of 
St.  Petersburg." 

Faith  crimsoned  to  the  ears.  She  had  shrunk  back  as 
far  as  possible  in  the  carriage  seat  and  had  not  dared  raise 

*  In  Russia  all  classes  address  each  other  by  the  Christian  name  and 
patronymic.  The  family  name  or  the  title  are  rarely  used.  Petr6vich, 
i.  e.,  Son  of  Peter  or  Pierre. 

16 


LITTLE  COMRADE 

her  head  to  encounter  the  merry  gaze  of  the  keen  blue  eyes 
she  remembered  so  well.  She  could  shrink  no  further, 
neither  could  she  well  follow  a  wild  desire  to  leap  out  of  the 
phaeton  and  run  away.  She  could  only  make  a  timid  little 
bow  to  the  object  of  her  adoration  and,  in  response  to  his 
polite  greeting  spoken  in  excellent  English,  utter  some  sense- 
less words  which  stuck  in  her  throat.  But  the  carriage  had 
already  rolled  by  the  little  group  on  the  sidewalk,  the  tall 
man  was  bowing  a  courteous  farewell,  and  the  baroness  was 
waving  her  parasol  and  calling  back  to  him,  "We  shall  come 
to  call  on  your  sister  this  evening." 

"That  is  too  bad,"  grumbled  the  baroness.  "If  I  had 
only  seen  him  in  time  I  would  have  stopped  the  carriage 
and  had  a  little  conversation.  He  looked  as  if  he  wanted  to 
speak  to  us,  and  he  is  a  man  well  worth  talking  to,  Faith, 
a  very  superior  article.  We  knew  him  twelve  years 
ago  in  Vienna  when  his  uncle,  Prince  Kliazemski,  was  Rus- 
sian ambassador  there.  The  young  prince  was  then  a  clever, 
studious  boy  of  seventeen,  and  he  has  developed  into  a 
charming  and  most  cultivated  man." 

"Oh,  why,  why  did  you  introduce  me?"  gasped  Faith. 
"Such  a  distinguished  man  does  not  care  to  know  a  little 
girl  like  me!  You  heard  him  refer  to  me  as  a  child. 
He  would  be  bored  to  death  to  have  to  talk  to  me, 
and,  as  for  me,  I  should  be  stricken  dumb  if  he  asked 
me  a  question!  I  shall  certainly  run  away  if  ever  I  see  him 
coming." 

"Now,  Faith,  don't  be  silly!  In  the  first  place,  he  looked 
very  hard  at  you,  as  if  he  would  like  to  meet  you  very  much 
indeed.  I  know  that  look  when  I  see  it  in  a  man's  eyes. 
You  can't  mistake  it.  In  the  second  place,  he  has 
already  noticed  you  about  with  us  and  spoken  of  you 
to  Kirill,  asked  who  you  were  and  for  the  favor  of  being 
presented,  and  said  you  had  such  a  sweet  voice." 

Faith  giggled  delightedly.     "Oh,  er  —  by  the  way,"  she 

17 


FAITH  BRANDON 

said,  trying  to  look  unconcerned,  "were  those  Prince  Soln- 
tsoff's  children?" 

The  baroness  glanced  at  her  sharply,  then  gave  a  little 
chuckle.  "Hem!  The  prince  was  a  bachelor  the  last  I 
knew.  His  widowed  sister,  Countess  Chernyatina,  arrived 
last  night  with  her  two  children,  governess  and  maid,  as 
you  had  the  opportunity  to  learn  when  you  were  studying 
the  hotel  register  so  closely  this  morning,  Faith!" 

Faith  reddened  and  laughed  good-naturedly.  "But  if 
I  am  to  know  them,  I  ought  to  be  sure  of  the  family  rela- 
tionships," she  suggested. 

"Well,  the  elderly,  invalid  gentleman  in  the  wheel-chair  is 
the  former  ambassador,  their  uncle,  but  he  was  like  a  father 
to  them  since  they  lost  their  parents  in  childhood.  The 
middle-aged  gentleman  at  our  hotel  who  is  with  them  so 
much  is  General  Alyonkin,  a  privy  councilor  and  provincial 
governor.  He  is  a  very  distinguished  man  and  has  a  charm- 
ing wife  and  a  flock  of  lovely  children.  The  Kliazemskis 
and  Solntsoffs  are  all  very  prominent  in  St.  Petersburg, 
Imperial  chamberlains,  privy  councilors,  and  court-grandees. 
They  are  genuine  Russian  princes,  descendants  of  Ryiirik,* 
and  were  sovereign  princes  in  the  middle-ages,  and  fought 
the  Mongols  and  Tatars  and  I  don't  know  who  all!" 

"Oh,  what  fun!"  cried  Faith,  .enthusiastically.  "It 
sounds  like  a  Sienkiewicz  novel,  like  Pan  Michael  and  Pan 
Andrei  and  all  that  delightful  crowd.  And  is  Prince  Soln- 
tsoff,  too,  a  fighter?" 

"Only  with  his  pen,  dear.  He  is  not  in  the  army,  but  in 
the  Foreign  Office.  He  writes  poetry  and  essays  and  very 
brilliant  satires.  But  he  has  also  written  some  historical 


*  Roderic,  first  sovereign  of  Russia  in  the  gth  century.  Prince, 
"Knyaz,"  is  the  highest  title  of  the  Russian  nobility,  corresponding  to 
the  English  Duke.  Nearly  all  the  Russian  princely  families  are  lineal 
descendants  of  the  historic  grand-princes  and  tsars  of  mediaeval  Russia. 
Their  names  are  taken  from  the  lands  they  governed,  as  Viazemski  from 
Viazma,  Obolenski  from  Obo-Lensk,  or  are  derived  from  nicknames, 
as  Dolgo-ruki,  Long- Armed. 

18 


LITTLE  COMRADE 

sketches  you  might  enjoy,  on  episodes  in  the  different 
invasions  of  Russia." 

It  struck  Faith  that  she  ought  really  to  be  better  read  in 
Russian  history.  It  was  disgraceful  to  know  as  little  as  she 
did  about  a  great  empire,  and  a  people  of  such  genius  in 
art,  music  and  literature!  She  must  take  steps  at  once  to 
inform  herself.  So  she  begged  leave  to  cross  over  to  an 
opposite  bookstore  while  the  baroness  was  at  the  dress- 
maker's. 

Guiltily  conscious  of  her  secret  purpose,  Faith  slipped 
timidly  into  the  bookstore,  where  were  books  in  many  lan- 
guages, chiefly  romances,  guide-books  and  books  on  sport, 
for  the  entertainment  and  instruction  of  tourists  and  summer- 
visitors.  She  applied  to  a  discreet-looking  clerk  and,  as 
an  entering  wedge,  bought  a  volume  of  Pushkin's  poems  in 
German  translation.  Then  she  screwed  up  her  courage  and 
asked  in  a  very  small,  low  voice,  if  they  had  any  works  on 
Russian  history,  in  translation,  as  she  did  not  yet  read 
Russian  well. 

"We  don't  keep  historical  works,"  declared  the  clerk, 
in  what  seemed  to  her  an  unnecessarily  loud  tone. 
"There  is  very  little  demand  in  a  place  like  this  for 
history." 

"I  do  not  mean  large  historical  works,"  interposed  Faith, 
very,  very  softly.  "I  mean  sketches  on  historical  subjects 
like  —  er  —  Knyaz  Solntsoff 's,  for  instance." 

"  I  can  order  Knyaz  Solntsoff 's  books  for  you,  if  you  wish," 
said  the  clerk,  and  it  seemed  to  Faith  as  if  he  shouted.  She 
fancied  every  one  in  the  shop  was  looking  at  her  and  must 
understand  her  reason  for  being  interested  in  this  author's 
works.  Suddenly  the  clerk  looked  up  animatedly. 

"Here  is  the  Illustrious  Prince  himself;  he  can  tell  me 
where  to  get  them  for  you,"  he  exclaimed,  as  the  door  opened 
and  a  tall  figure  in  gray  tweeds  entered  the  shop. 

The  clerk  darted  forward  and  bowing  low,  addressed  the 


FAITH  BRANDON 

newcomer  deferentially.  "Pardon  me,  Knyaz!  but  would 
your  Illustrious  Highness*  obligingly  advise  me  where  I  can 
procure  the  German  translation  of  your  '  Historical  Episodes ' 
for  this  young  lady?" 

Faith  could  have  cried  out  for  the  earth  to  open  and  swallow 
her  up !  She  could  blush  no  more,  poor  child !  and  there  was 
no  escape  to  be  had  in  flight.  Driven  to  bay,  she  summoned 
desperate  courage  and  faced  the  enemy  boldly,  lifting  her 
head  high  as  the  prince  approached  and  smiling  cordially 
straight  up  into  his  face.  He  looked  all  polite  astonishment 
at  seeing  her. 

"This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,"  he  declared.  "I  am 
very  glad  I  accidentally  dropped  in  here  if  I  can  be  of  service 
to  you,  Miss  Brandon,  especially  in  a  quest  so  flattering  to 
me  as  a  writer." 

"I  am  very  fond  of  historical  novels,"  explained  Faith, 
assuming  a  most  straightforward  and  matter-of-fact  manner, 
"especially  Sienkievicz's  works  on  the  struggles  of  the  Poles 
and  Lithuanians  against  the  Tatars  and  the  Swedes;  and  I 
find  the  whole  period  intensely  interesting.  Of  course  the 
Russians  went  through  the  same  struggles,  but  I  know  very 
little  of  their  share  in  these  events,  and  Baroness  Stourdza 
told  me  that  you  had  written  some  sketches  bearing  on  that 
period." 

Her  hearer  listened  courteously  and  with  fitting  gravity. 

"If  you  would  like  to  go  back  to  some  of  the  earliest  works 
extant,"  he  said  with  great  seriousness,  "I  would  advise  you 
to  begin  with  the  recent  French  translation  of  '  The  Word 
of  Igor's  Armament,'  or  the  twelfth  century  'Chronicles 
of  Kief.'  Then  come  the  chronicles  and  epics  bearing  upon 
the  Mongol  and  Tatar  invasions  in  the  South,  and  the 
struggles  with  Germans  and  Swedes  in  the  North.  These 
old  chronicles  are  the  foundation  of  all  our  historical  novels." 

*Vashe  Siydtelstoo,  literally  "Your  Brilliancy  "  or  "Your  Splendor." 
The  corresponding  title  in  English  would  be  that  of  a  duke,  —  "Your 
Grace,"  but  in  Russia  the  latter  is  an  inferior  title.  . 

29 


LITTLE  COMRADE 

"If  they  are  anything  like  the  chronicles  of  Froissart, 
they  are  better  than  any  novels  ever  written,"  cried  Faith 
eagerly,  unbending  from  her  academic  attitude  in  her  en- 
thusiasm. "Do  please  tell  me  where  I  can  find  them!" 

"  Hardly  here,"  he  replied,  smiling  down  at  the  eager  young 
face.  "I  will  give  you  an  address  for  the  French  transla- 
tions I  referred  to,  and  I  shall  be  delighted  if  you  will  permit 
me  to  lend  you  an  English  translation  of  our  Epics  and  folk 
songs." 

"Oh,  thank  you  so  much!"  cried  Faith.  "It  sounds  as 
if  they  would  be  just  what  I  most  enjoy."  She  saw  him 
glance  slyly  at  her  volume  of  Pushkin.  Thankful  that  it 
was  so  creditable  a  book  she  picked  it  up  and  moved  toward 
the  door.  The  young  man  stopped  to  bow  and  wish  a 
pleasant  do  sviddniya*  to  the  clerk,  then  hastened  forward 
to  open  the  door  for  Faith  and  stepped  after  her  into  the 
street.  Apparently  he  intended  accompanying  her  to 
where  the  phaeton  was  waiting. 

"Goodness  gracious!  He  is  coming  with  me!"  she  said 
to  herself,  in  a  blue  fright.  "Of  course,  he  must  think  that 
my  interest  in  Russian  history  is  purely  personal  and  all 
assumed  on  his  account.  Perhaps  it  would  be  best  to  let 
him  suppose  that  I  take  him  for  a  married  man. ' '  She  looked 
up  into  his  face  very  candidly  and  ingenuously. 

"You  have  such  beautiful  children,"  she  remarked,  pleas- 
antly. "You  must  be  very  proud  of  them." 

He  flashed  a  quick  glance  of  inquiry  at  her.  Before 
replying  he  carefully  twisted  his  moustache.  "You  mean 
my  small  niece  and  nephew?  "  he  said  at  last.  "Yes, indeed! 
Though  only  their  bachelor  uncle,  I  am  almost  as  proud  of 
them  as  their  own  father  could  be." 

"Oh,  you  are  their  uncle!"  she  said,  slowly,  in  well-feigned 
surprise.  Then  after  a  pause  she  added  gravely,  "I  do  not 
know  that  it  is  any  great  recommendation  to  be  an  uncle!" 

*  Pronounced  dah  suid-ahn-ee-yah,  "  au  revoir! "  "  auf  wiedersehenl " 

21 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"What  is  wrong  with  uncles?"  he  asked  good-humoredly, 
as  they  picked  their  way  across  the  street  to  where  the  Tatar 
ponies  waited  in  the  shade. 

"Uncles  in  stories  are  always  wicked,"  she  explained. 
"In  all  fairy  tales  they  are  as  bad  as  stepmothers,  if  not 
worse.  Look  at  'Babes  in  the  Woods'  for  instance.  Then 
think  of  the  uncles  of  history,  King  Richard  III  smothering 
the  poor  little  princes  in  the  Tower,  or  King  John  putting 
out  Prince  Arthur's  eyes." 

"Heavens!"  he  exclaimed,  "What  an  awful  lot  we  are, 
to  be  sure!  How  can  I  live  down  such  a  reputation?" 
He  assisted  her  into  the  phaeton  and  drew  the  light  duster 
about  her  knees,  then,  turning,  raised  his  hat  in  acknowl- 
edgment of  the  driver's  greeting  and  exchanged  a  few  pleas- 
ant words  with  him  in  easy,  democratic  fashion.  Then  he 
lazily  took  up  his  position  by  the  carriage  step.  It  was 
evident  that  he  intended  to  stay  there  till  the  baroness 
appeared. 

"He  could  surely  leave  now,  if  he  wished,"  thought  Faith, 
nervously.  "Is  this  his  politeness,  or  does  he  really  want 
to  talk  to  me?  I  wonder  why  he  doesn't  return  to  the  book- 
store and  do  his  errand  there?  Ought  I  to  send  him 
away?  " 

She  decided  to  be  deeply  absorbed  in  her  book,  so  that  he 
need  not  feel  obliged  to  amuse  her  if  he  wished  for  an  excuse 
to  leave. 

"Are  you  —  er  —  reading?"  asked  the  prince,  at  last. 

Faith  closed  her  book  in  some  confusion.  How  rude 
she  must  seem!  "I  beg  your  pardon,"  she  stammered. 

"Don't  let  me  interrupt  you! "  he  said  apologetically,  with 
a  world  of  good-humored  raillery  in  his  tone  and  that  merry, 
sidelong  glance  of  the  blue  eyes  that  she  remembered  so  well. 
"I  know  that  Pushkin  is  very  absorbing,  even  in  German 
dress." 

"I  was  afraid,"  explained  Faith  with  concern,  "that  I 

22 


LITTLE  COMRADE 

might  be  keeping  you  from  your  errand  at  the  bookstore. 
I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude." 

"Thank  you  for  your  consideration,"  he  said,  pleasantly. 
"  You  are  not  keeping  me  from  it.  I  have  accomplished  it." 

Faith  looked  mystified.  It  must  have  been  a  very  small 
errand,  for  he  had  not  had  time  to  say  more  than  two  words 
to  the  clerk! 

At  that  moment  the  baroness  appeared  and  after  giving 
her  hand  cordially  to  the  prince,  who  kissed  it  gallantly, 
she  climbed  into  the  phaeton. 

"Are  you  returning  to  the  hotel,  Baroness?"  he  asked. 
"If  so,  will  you  give  me  the  hospitality  of  your  carriage?" 

Faith  wondered  where  he  would  sit,  as  she  and  the  baroness 
fully  occupied  the  one  seat  of  the  small  carriage.  But  the 
floor  was  wide  and  roomy;  and  reaching  up  to  the  driver's 
seat  the  prince  took  down  a  cushion,  placed  it  on  the  floor 
at  their  feet,  and  seated  himself  carelessly  on  it,  half  facing 
the  ladies,  his  long  legs  dangling  over  the  side,  one  foot 
braced  against  the  steps.  Faith  recalled  having  occasion- 
ally seen  other  young  men  driving  about  in  this  informal 
fashion,  but  she  had  supposed  them  to  be  plebeian  tourists, 
regardless  of  public  opinion.  It  had  not  occurred  to  her  that 
there  is  none  so  simple,  so  unassuming,  so  independent  of 
conventionality  as  the  true  aristocrat;  and  that  these 
easy-going  youths  were  probably  Serene  or  Illustrious 
Princes,  or  Excellent  Counts,  Court-Grandees  or  Imperial 
Chamberlains. 

The  Kozak  driver  whipped  up  his  active  little  Krim- 
Tatar  ponies  and  drove  homeward  at  a  brisk  pace,  the  illus- 
trious descendant  of  Ryurik  chatting  genially  with  the 
baroness  on  reminiscences  of  the  old  days  at  the  Vienna 
Embassy. 

When  they  reached  the  steep  ascent  to  the  hotel,  he 
jumped  off. 

"Have  you  no  pity  on  the  ponies,  Miss  Brandon?    Will 

23 


FAITH  BRANDON 

you  not  walk  up  the  hill  with  me?"  he  asked,  holding  out 
his  hand  to  Faith. 

"I  will  matronize  you  from  the  carriage,"  said  the  baron- 
ess, good-naturedly. 

Faith  started  up  happily.  She  felt  quite  at  home  with 
her  hero  already.  To  think  that  one  short  hour  ago  he  was 
all  unknown,  and  now  he  seemed  like  an  old  acquaintance! 

"I  am  sure  you  are  a  good  climber,  Miss  Brandon.  The 
steepness  of  this  path  will  not  terrify  you.  It  is  so  much 
shorter  and  more  picturesque  than  the  carriage  road.  We 
will  fancy  ourselves  scaling  the  heights  of  Our  Lady  of  Chen- 
stohova  with  Pan  Andrei  in  'The  Deluge.'"  He  did  not 
wait  for  an  answer  but  led  the  way  up  the  rocky,  hillside 
path.  Faith  was  active  and  strong  and  sure-footed;  but 
when  he  turned  every  now  and  then  to  offer  a  helping 
hand  over  the  steepest  spots,  his  firm,  strong  clasp  and 
steady  pull  were  a  delightful  aid.  It  was  nearly  impossible 
to  talk  during  the  rough  climb;  but  when  they  arrived 
at  the  top,  warm  and  out  of  breath,  he  suggested  they  should 
rest  on  the  rustic  bench  placed  there  and  wait  for  the  slowly 
ascending  carriage  to  join  them. 

"May  I  not  dispense  with  ceremony  and  call  you  by  your 
Christian  name?"  he  asked.  "It  is  our  Russian  custom 
among  acquaintances  in  social  life.  Young  and  old,  we  call 
each  other  by  our  Christian  name  and  patronymic  as  soon 
as  we  meet." 

"But  I  —  I  have  to  call  you  'Prince  Solntsoff,'  do  I  not?" 
she  asked,  timidly. 

"Not  according  to  our  Russian  customs,"  he  replied. 
"We  are  very  democratic.  It  seems  to  us  more  like  the 
brotherhood  of  Christians.  Perhaps  we  shall  change  when 
we  are  more  civilized,  and  less  Christian!  But  in  Russia  you 
will  call  me  'Lyeff  Petrovich,'  Leo,  son  of  Peter.  Besides," 
ke  added,  "even  in  more  formal  countries  I  might  surely 
De  permitted  to  call  you  Taith/  as  you  are  still  a  school- 

24 


LITTLE  COMRADE 

girl,  and  I  am  almost  twice  your  age.  You  are  just  sixteen 
and  I  am  entering  my  thirtieth  year.  Does  that  seem 
very  old?" 

"Oh,  no,  indeed!  It  is  just  the  right  age,"  she  replied 
politely.  "You  see,  in  stories  written  for  schoolgirls  the 
hero  is  nearly  always  a  man  of  about  thirty  years  of  age, 
so  we  think  it  is  the  finest  age  of  all." 

His  lips  twitched  in  an  amused  smile.  Then  he  saw  by 
the  sudden  wave  of  color  that  swept  the  child's  face  and  a 
startled  look  in  her  eyes  that  she  was  beginning  to  see  what 
she  had  implied  in  classing  him  with  the  heroes  of  young 
girls'  romances.  He  hastened  to  turn  her  thoughts. 

"  Why  do  you  like  the  Polish  historical  novels  better  than 
those  of  Scott  and  Cooper,  based  on  your  own  ancestral 
history?"  he  asked. 

Faith  took  a  moment  to  find  words.  "I  think  it  is  because 
the  Polish  stories  have  the  interest  of  a  spiritual  struggle 
as  well  as  of  the  usual  temporal  difficulties  and  physical 
exploits.  Sienkievicz's  heroes  have  many  and  great  faults, 
but  they  have  so  much  heart,  so  much  loyalty,  such  deep 
faith!  It  is  really  beautiful!  That  is  why  'The  Deluge' 
is  my  favorite.  In  it  you  can  see  the  soul  of  Pan  Andrei 
struggling  from  the  bad  toward  the  good.  All  through  his 
exciting  adventures  you  can  feel  the  undercurrent  of  his 
spiritual  purification  through  penance  and  trials." 

"Like  all  women,  you  fancy  sinners!"  said  the  prince  a 
little  bitterly.  "You  do  not  believe  that  the  so-called  'good' 
also  have  their  struggles,  their  failures  and  triumphs?" 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do!"  cried  Faith,  eagerly.  "It  is  only  when 
their  consciences  are  aroused  and  they  begin  painfully  to 
turn  toward  the  good,  that  sinners  become  interesting." 

"You  find  the  reclaimed  sinner  interesting,"  he  persisted 
jealously,  "while  the  good,  who  have  struggled  up  the  hard 
road  from  the  start,  bearing  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day, 
you  find  dull." 

25 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Faith's  voice  was  low  and  a  little  tremulous  as  she  re- 
plied, "We  do  not  find  them  dull.  They  are  the  real  he- 
roes. We  worship  the  ground  they  tread  on!" 

He  looked  steadily  and  thoughtfully  out  before  him.  "No 
human  being,  man  or  woman,  is  worthy  of  such  worship," 
he  said,  gravely.  "Confine  your  hero-worship  to  the  saints 
of  God,  the  true  heroes  and  heroines  of  humanity.  As 
for  your  ordinary,  everyday,  God-fearing  fellow-christians, 
neither  saints  nor  sinners,  many  of  us  are  worthy  of  your 
sincere  liking,  your  trust,  your  love,  even.  But  do  not  pre- 
pare misery  for  yourself  by  making  impossible  idols  of  us. 
According  to  Scripture,  even  the  good  fall  seven  times  a 
day  and  rise  again, — almost  enough  to  make  them  'in- 
teresting!' There!  I  have  read  you  a  long,  dull  lecture, — 
Experience  of  thirty  years  addressing  Faith  of  sixteen!" 
and  he  smiled  brightly  at  her.  "Yours  is  such  a  beautiful 
name  in  our  Russian  tongue,"  he  added  gently.  "We 
call  it  'Vyera.'"* 

"Vyera?"  she  repeated,  "I  supposed  that  it  was  Vera, 
the  Latin  for  'true.' " 

"No,  it  is  the  theological  virtue  of  Faith,  from  'vyerit/ 
to  believe.  Vyera,  Faith;  Nadezhda,f  Hope,  and  Lyub6v,J 
Love,  are  all  favorite  names  with  us,  though  to  me  Vyera 
is  the  most  beautiful,  for  how  can  we. either  hope  or  love, 
unless  we  first  have  faith? "  and  he  looked  very  earnestly 
into  the  sweet,  noble  young  face  beside  him. 

Suddenly  an  amusing  thought  seemed  to  strike  him. 
"You,  for  instance,  have  very  little  faith  in  uncles!  I  am 
sure  you  would  not  have  recognized  me  so  kindly  this  morn- 
ing if  you  had  known  I  was  an  uncle." 

Faith  did  not  answer.  A  terrible  feeling  had  come  over 
her.  Could  it  be  that  he  had  seen  through  her  duplicity 
in  professing  to  think  him  a  married  man?  Had  he  pene- 

*  Pronounced,  V'ydir-ah. 
t  Nahd-ydizh-dah. 
j  Uyou-bov. 

26 


LITTLE  COMRADE 

trated  that  harmless  little  artifice?  And  must  she  cover  it 
up  with  another  artifice,  or  would  he  see  through  that  as 
easily?  Yet,  how  in  the  world  could  she  ever  own  up  that 
she  had  tried  to  mislead  him? 

"Would  you?"  he  persisted  teasingly.  He  looked  kindly 
enough  at  her;  but  it  seemed  to  Faith  as  if  his  eyes,  the  true 
Slavic  eyes  of  soft,  light  blue,  had  suddenly  grown  dark  and 
piercing  and  could  penetrate  to  the  very  marrow  of  her  bones. 
"  Would  you  have  been  so  friendly,  if  you  had  known  from 
the  first  that  I  was  only  an  uncle,  and  not  a  respectable 
father  of  a  family?  " 

She  turned  her  face  away  and  hung  her  head.  Her  lips 
quivered  and  two  round  pearly  tears  trembled  on  her  dark 
lashes.  "My  sin  has  found  me  out,"  she  sighed.  "The 
good  Lord  must  love  me,  for  He  certainly  chastens  me!  I 
never  yet  told  the  least  little  bit  of  a  white  lie  that  I  was  not 
immediately  found  out  and  shamed  for  it." 

The  prince  listened  with  a  grave  face  and  looked  at  her 
very  intently.  He  almost  held  his  breath  as  he  waited  for 
her  next  words. 

If  she  was  to  do  the  thing  at  all,  she  would  do  it  thor- 
oughly. So  she  swung  round  and  faced  him,  looking 
straight  into  his  eyes.  "I  might  as  well  make  a  clean 
breast  of  it,"  she  said.  "I  did  know  it,  all  the  time!  I 
knew  from  the  very  first  that  you  were  the  children's 
uncle!  I  only  said  what  I  did  because  I  was  —  er  — 
embarrassed." 

He  drew  a  long  breath,  but  he  made  no  reply. 

"He  would  be  more  generous,"  she  thought,  "if  he  knew 
what  it  cost  me  to  confess."  And  she  turned  away  feeling 
utterly  condemned. 

The  prince  saw  the  shamed,  tearful  eyes  and  resolute 
mouth.  He  said  to  himself,  "Her  soul  is  too  pure  and  true 
to  be  happy  under  the  slightest  stain.  She  has  the  moral 
courage  to  confess  her  faults  and  to  face  what  may  come." 

27 


FAITH  BRANDON 

But  the  words  that  he  pronounced  aloud  were  altogether 
different. 

"So  you  knew  all  the  time,"  he  repeated,  quietly.  "And 
I  knew  all  the  time  that  you  knew!" 

"I  suppose  so,"  she  sighed,  resigned  to  the  worst. 

"Poor  child!  You  are  punished  enough  for  a  very  small 
offence,  one  which  only  amused  me  at  the  time,  but  which 
has  had  consequences  that  I  am  most  grateful  for,"  and  his 
glance,  had  she  seen  it,  was  full  of  kindly  admiration. 

"You  have  kept  faith  with  me  and  I  thank  you  from  my 
soul,"  he  continued,  "for  I  know  what  it  has  cost  your  brave 
little  heart  to  confess.  But,  Vyera,  I,  too,  have  a  confession 
to  make!  It  may  perhaps  console  you  somewhat  to  know 
that  I  share  your  guilt!  " 

She  turned  and  glanced  upward  inquiringly.  He  was 
half-laughing,  half-frowning,  and  looking  actually  a  little 
confused. 

"  I  was  very  much  surprised,  was  I  not,  to  find  you  in  the 
bookstore,  and  told  you  that  it  was  an  'unexpected  pleasure' 
—  that  I  was  glad  I  had  'accidentally  dropped  in '?  " 

She  nodded. 

"Well,  Vy6ra,  the  strict  truth  is  this.  When  I  took  the 
children  home  I  had  intended  to  devote  the  rest  of  the  morn- 
ing to  some  important  writing,  instead  of  which  I  turned 
round  and  walked  back  into  the  town,  wandering  about  till  I 
caught  sight  of  Baroness  Stourdza's  carriage  and  saw  you 
cross  the  street  and  enter  the  bookstore.  Then  I  —  delib- 
erately and  intentionally  —  followed  in  after  you,  and  told 
you  that  pack  of  lies!" 

Every  last  cloud  had  vanished  from  Faith's  expressive 
countenance.  Her  eyes  were  shining  like  two  stars,  and  the 
corners  of  her  mouth  were  twitching  with  suppressed  mirth. 
She  watched  him  breathlessly.  "Why?"  she  asked. 

"Because  I,  too,  was  '  —  er  —  embarrassed,' "  he  replied. 

Faith  shook  her  head  and  looked  unconvinced.    "But, 

28 


LITTLE  COMRADE 

why?"  she  asked  again,  for  it  was  inconceivable  that  so 
experienced  a  man  of  the  world  should  be  embarrassed  before 
a  mere  child. 

His  eyes  glanced  downward  and  sideways  at  her  from 
under  the  shadow  of  their  long  lashes. 

"  I  am  a  sober,  sedate,  sensible  man,  as  a  rule,"  he  explained. 
"I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  running  about  the  streets  in  pur- 
suit of  young  ladies,  much  less  of  little  schoolgirls  in  short 
frocks  and  pigtails.  But  I  was  nearly  knocked  over  the 
other  evening  by  an  apparition  in  the  moonlight.  I  have 
wished  to  verify  its  corporeal  existence,  but  hitherto  it  has 
eluded  me.  I  have  approached  it  and  it  has  fled  from  me, 
till  I  began  to  think  myself  the  victim  of  some  moonstruck 
fantasy.  When  I  finally  cornered  it,  I  suddenly  became 
conscious  of  the  anomaly  of  my  position.  Fancy  how  startled 
you  would  have  been  had  I  exclaimed,  'I  have  caught  you 
at  last!'  No  wonder  I  had  recourse  to  subterfuge!  Vyera, 
do  you  condemn  me  for  that  sin?" 

Faith  grinned.  "I  am  afraid  I  take  a  most  unholy  joy 
in  it,"  she  said,  and  they  both  burst  out  laughing. 

"Now  we  are  quits!"  he  said  gayly,  "and  you  must  admit 
that  you  like  me  better  since  you  find  I  am  a  sinner,  and  an 
unrepenting  one  at  that!" 

"I  certainly  feel  more  at  home  with  you  now  that  I  know 
we  are  two  of  a  kind,"  she  acknowledged. 

"And  our  friendship  is  now  on  a  firm  basis  of  mutual  under- 
standing and  confidence." 

"Friendship!"  echoed  Faith.  "There  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  friendship  between  you  and  me." 

"And  why  not,  if  you  please?" 

"  Why,  because  there  must  be  some  equality  in  friendship, 
some  exchange  of  equal  value.  Now,  what  can  an  ignorant, 
unformed  schoolgirl  like  me  have  to  give  to  an  experienced, 
clever  man  of  the  world  like  you?  " 

"Please  do  not  call  me  a  'man  of  the  world,'  "  he  said, 

29 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"for  the  world  and  I,  meaning  the  world  of  pomps  and  vani- 
ties —  the  '  great  world,'  are  not  on  good  terms.  We  have  a 
poor  opinion  of  one  another.  As  for  your  youth,  I  can  only 
assure  you  that  there  are  women  twice  your  age  and  many 
times  your  experience  with  whom  I  have  no  interests,  no 
tastes  in  common,  on  which  to  found  friendship.  But  you 
and  I  are  congenial  in  our  tastes,  and  it  appears  that  we 
are  even  akin  in  our  failings.  Is  there]  not  a  basis  for 
friendship?  " 

"At  least,  you  can  be  a  friend  to  me,"  she  replied,  ear- 
nestly. "You  can  give  me  so  much  of  value  from  your 
experience  and  greater  knowledge.  I  can  give  you  only  my 
sympathy  and  my  companionship,  such  as  it  is.  You  can 
be  my  big  friend,  but  I  can  be  only  your  little  comrade." 

"My  'little  comrade,'"  he  repeated.  "I  like  that  name, 
'  Little  Comrade.'  Believe  me,  Vyera,  you  give  me  much  of 
value  when  you  give  me  your  sympathy  and  your  compan- 
ionship." 

The  carriage  was  rapidly  nearing  them.  He  held  out 
his  hand.  "From  henceforth  we  are  'Big  Friend'  and 
'Little  Comrade,'  and  as  such  pledge  our  faith." 

With  one  of  her  radiant  smiles  she  laid  her  hand  in  his. 
He  bent  over  it  and  pressed  his  lips  to  her  fingers.  "This 
is  another  of  our  Russian  usages  which  you  must  become 
accustomed  to,"  remarked  the  prince. 


CHAPTER  HI 

THE  "FAIR-SUN" 

"How  attractive  to  us  are  the  banks  of  the  Dn'ye'per,  the  Volkh6f, 
the  Don,  when  we  know  what  has  taken  place  upon  them  in  remote 
antiquity!  The  shadows  of  bygone  centuries  everywhere  draw  pictures 
before  us." 

— N.  Karamzine. 

"IN  THIS  wise  came  the  Kozak  youth,  Ilya,  to  Kief;  and 
he  did  reverence  as  prescribed,  and  in  particular  to  the  Fair- 
Sun,  Prince  Vladimir.*  And  the  courteous  Vladimir  sent  to 
bid  the  strange  hero  to  the  feast,  and  inquired  of  him  from 
what  horde  and  land  he  came. 

"'Thou  Fair-Sun,  Prince  Vladimir,'  replied  Ilya,  'I  came 
hither  by  the  straight  way,  beside  famed  Smorodina  amid 
the  bending  birches!'" 

"That  is  my  uncle,"  announced  Alyoshaf  Chernyatin, 
breaking  in  upon  his  sister's  reading.  "That  is  he,  'the 
good  Prince,'  the  'Courteous  Prince,  Fair-Sun,'  'Krdsnoye 
Solntse,' "  and  he  clapped  his  small  hands  joyously. 

"Our  uncle  is  descended  from  Vladimir  'Solntse,'  that  is 
the  derivation  of  the  family  name  'Solntsoff!'"J  explained 
Yirina,  the  oldest  girl. 

And  Faith,  who  held  the  little  boy  on  her  knee,  surrepti- 
tiously kissed  the  back  of  his  curly  brown  head,  for  he  had 
pronounced  aloud  the  very  thought  of  her  heart. 

"Continuez,  Mademoiselle  Irene,"  said  the  governess. 

So  Yirina  Pdvlovna  continued  the  reading  of  the  famous 
Russian  epic;  and  the  children  listened  in  wide-eyed  wonder 

1 "  Lord  of  the  World,"  pronounced  Vlad-ye6-mir. 
t  Diminutive  of  Aleks^y,  i.  e.,  Alexis, 
j  Written  Solntsev;  pronounced  Sawn-tzoff. 

31 


FAITH  BRANDON 

to  the  marvelous  adventures  of  Ilya  of  Murom,  surpassing 
the  wildest  fancies  of  the  "Arabian  Nights."  "So  swift 
was  the  flight  of  his  good  steed,  Cloudfall,  that  there  seemed 
but  a  smoke-wreath  on  the  plain,  as  when  wild  winds  of 
winter  whirl  about  the  snow.  And  the  good  Cloudfall 
skimmed  over  the  hills  and  above  the  waters  and  soared, 
like  a  bright  falcon,  over  the  tall,  dreaming  forest.  High 
over  the  standing  pines  he  soared,  the  primeval  oaks,  yet 
lower  than  the  drifting  clouds.  From  mountain  to  mountain 
he  sprang,  from  hilltop  to  hilltop  he  galloped,  little  rivers 
and  lakes  dropped  from  between  his  feet;  where  his  hoofs 
fell  founts  of  water  gushed  forth;  in  the  open  plain  smoke 
eddied  and  arose  aloft  in  a  pillar.  At  each  leap  Cloudfall 
compassed  a  verst  and  a  half." 

Small  wonder  that  with  the  aid  of  such  a  steed  the  young 
Kozak  destroyed,  single-handed,  the  entire  Tatar  host. 
"The  gray  hare  could  not  course,  nor  the  swiftest  falcon  fly 
about  that  host,  so  vast  was  it;  and  the  cloud  of  steam  from 
the  horses  was  so  great  that  the  fair  red  sun  was  not  seen 
by  day  nor  the  silver  moon  by  night.  And  Ilya  flew  over 
the  lofty  gates  of  Chernigoff  and  entered  the  church,  where 
all  the  people  were  assembled,  praying  God,  repenting,  and 
receiving  the  holy  sacrament  against  sure  and  approaching 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  besieging  Tatar  host."  And 
"Ilyd  crossed  himself  as  prescribed,  and  did  reverence  as 
enjoined,  and  cried  'Hail,  mighty  heroes,  all!  Why  do 
ye  thus  bid  farewell  to  the  white  world?  Go  ye  upon  the 
famous  walls  of  your  city  and  look  toward  the  open  plain!' 
And  they  did  as  he  commanded,  and  lo!  where  had  stood 
the  many,  very  many,  foreign  standards  like  a  dark,  dry 
forest,  now  were  the  accursed  Tatars  mown  down  and 
heaped  up  like  a  field  of  grain  which  hath  been  reaped!"* 

Jack,  the  Giant-killer,  and  Guy  of  Warwick,  with  whose 
exploits  Faith  had  tried  to  entertain  the  children,  paled 

*  Translation  taken  by  permission  from  Isabel  F.  Hapgood's  "  Epic 
Songs  of  Russia." 

32 


THE  "FAIR-SUN" 

before  Ilyd  Mtiromets.  What  was  the  Giant  Cormoran  com- 
pared to  Nightingale,  the  Robber,  who  built  his  nest  on  seven 
oaks;  and  when  he  whistled  like  a  nightingale,  the  dark 
forest  bowed  to  the  earth,  the  green  leaves  withered,  and 
horse  and  rider  fell  as  dead?  And  when  he  hissed  like  a 
dragon,  sparks  and  flame  poured  from  his  mouth  and  nos- 
trils. And  when  he  roared  like  an  aurochs,  all  the  ancient 
palaces  of  Kief  fell  in  ruins,  the  new  castles  rocked,  and 
the  roofs  of  the  city  fell  to  the  ground;  damp  Mother 
Earth  quivered,  and  as  many  as  remained  to  listen,  died! 

And  many  more  such  wonderful  tales  and  chronicles  had 
Faith  made  acquaintance  with  in  these  happy  days.  She 
learned  to  know  Yuri  Dolgoruki*  Vsewlod  Bolshde  Gnyezdo,} 
Mystislav  Sokoll  the  Young  Vasilko  and  many  another  hero; 
but  above  all  she  loved  the  history  of  Andrei  Yurievich,§ 
surnamed  Bogolyubdv, Love  of  God.  Andrei,"  Beloved  father, 
nourisher  of  orphans,  kind  and  gentle,  simple  and  strong, 
putting  his  arms  around  the  poor,  loving  those  who  are  aban- 
doned, giving  them  to  eat  and  to  drink."  Many  and  hot  were 
the  tears  she  shed  over  his  cruel,  treacherous  murder;  and  she 
loved  to  read  of  the  faithful  Kozmd,  who  found  his  hidden 
body  and  bore  it  to  the  door  of  the  golden-domed  church  of 
the  Miraculous  Virgin,  and  watched  over  it  for  two  days 
and  two  nights,  while  the  people  wailed,  "O  friend,  art 
thou  gone  from  us?"  and  no  man  could  restrain  his  tears. 
And  he  remains  in  the  minds  of  the  Russian  people  as  a 
bright  and  pure  memory,  for  he  sprinkled  the  house  in  which 
he  lived  with  his  martyr's  blood;  and  in  the  moments  of  his 
bitterest  agony,  betrayed  and  hacked  to  death  at  the  hands 
of  those  he  had  trusted  and  loved,  he  parted  from  the  world 
with  the  words,  "O  God,  receive  Thou  my  spirit!" 

And  near  the  palace  of  Andrei  Bogolyubdv  there  stands  a 
dark  and  swampy  lake,  and  a  weird  spot  called  "Floating 
Island";  and  on  that  island,  when  the  wind  blows,  are  seen 

*  Long  Arm.    t  Big  Nest.      %  Falcon.      §  Andrew,  son  of  George. 

33 


FAITH  BRANDON 

dark  patches  moving  restlessly  hither  and  thither;  and 
from  the  dark  depths  of  the  lake  come  sighs  and  groans,  for 
into  its  foul  waters  were  cast  the  bodies  of  Andrei's  murderers. 
And  the  people  cross  themselves  and  cry,  "Pray  thou  for  us, 
O  friend  of  the  poor,  that  the  Lord  may  assist  us  against 
our  enemies!"* 

It  did  not  occur  to  Faith  as  a  matter  of  surprise  that 
Knyaz  Solntsoff  should  have  supplied  himself,  for  a  tem- 
porary sojourn  at  a  fashionable  watering  place,  with  so 
extensive  a  collection  of  translations  of  Russian  folklore 
and  history.  He  had  also  presented  her  with  a  German 
edition  in  two  volumes  of  his  own  "Episodes  from  the 
Great  Invasions."  These  she  pored  over  in  the  solitude  of 
her  room,  sleeping  with  them  under  her  pillow  at  night, 
for  were  they  not  his  gift  to  her  and  had  he  not  himself 
inscribed  her  name  in  them — "  Zur  freundlichen  Erinnerung 
an  Leo,  Fiirst  Solnzow?"  She  did  not  know  the  secrets 
of  his  mail,  or  how  many  orders  went  to  French  and  Ger- 
man booksellers,  or  how  many  packages  were  received 
from  them  by  return  post.  She  only  knew  that  new  and 
delightful  books  were  at  the  young  people's  disposal  every 
day  of  this  happy,  this  ecstatic  month  of  September  on  the 
shores  of  the  romantic  bay  of  Yalta. 

In  a  small  summer  house,  overhanging  the  mountain 
path  above  the  hotel,  was  the  wheel  chair  of  the  invalid 
Knyaz  Kliazemski,  the  former  ambassador.  About  sixty- 
five  years  of  age,  rheumatic  and  somewhat  palsied,  he  was 
still  a  man  of  great  mental  vigor,  with  a  keen  interest  in 
life,  fond  of  conversation  and  taking  pleasure  in  having 
his  friends  and  family  about  him.  At  the  present  moment 
he  and  Graft  Alyonkin  were  busily  engaged  in  reading  the 
latest  journals  from  St.  Petersburg  and  discussing  the  news, 
political  and  social.  The  ladies,  Countess  Alyonkina, 

*  Adapted  from  J.  Curtin's  translation. 
Graf,  i.e.  Count  Grafinia,  Countess. 

34 


THE  "FAIR-SUN" 

Baroness  Stourdza,  and  Countess  Chernyatina,  sat  nearby, 
occupied  with  water-colors  and  embroidery,  but  also  listen- 
ing to  and  often  taking  a  lively  share  in  the  discussions.  At 
a  little  distance,  two  roly-poly,  yellow-haired  toddlers 
solemnly  played  ball  with  a  prim,  English  nurse.  Below, 
on  the  rustic  bench  bordering  the  mountain  path,  sat  Faith 
with  the  older  Alyonkin  children,  the  young  Chernyatins 
and  their  French  governess. 

Two  younger  men  graced  the  scene  with  their  presence. 
Baron  Stourdza,  dark,  melancholy-eyed,  and  strikingly  hand- 
some except  for  his  somewhat  small  stature,  sprawled  at 
length  at  the  foot  of  a  huge  laurel  tree,  smoking  a  cigarette 
and  reading  a  French  novel.  Under  a  neighboring  cedar, 
in  a  sitting  posture,  with  his  back  against  the  tree,  the  big, 
sunny-haired  Russian  was  busily  engaged  with  writing. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  more  strictly  in  accordance  with  the 
truth  to  say  that  he  was  apparently  busy.  By  habit  he  was 
a  rapid  worker,  his  mind  singularly  concentrated  and  alert; 
but  he  required  solitude  and  silence  for  his  best  efforts.  It 
seemed  strange  then,  that  he  should  have  taken  up  his 
position  at  the  foot  of  a  tree  not  two  rods  from  where  the 
young  people  sat.  Surely  their  loud  talk  and  eager  chatter 
must  break  in  annoyingly  on  his  train  of  thought!  That 
they  gave  him  serious  distraction  was  evident,  for  he  fre- 
quently laid  down  his  pencil  altogether  and  gazed  at  the 
little  group  with  a  dreamy  look  in  his  blue  eyes,  and  a 
smile,  half-amused,  half-tender,  playing  under  the  shadow 
of  his  moustache.  No  doubt  he  was  too  familiar  with  the 
Russian  tales  to  pay  much  attention  to  their  reading  by 
Irene.  The  English  legends  and  ballads  were  probably 
of  fresher  interest,  for  it  was  noticeable  that  his  distractions 
occurred  chiefly  during  Faith's  recitations  to  the  older 
children  of  "The  White  Doe  of  Rylstone,"  "The  Lady 
of  Shallott,"  "Sir  Patrick  Spens,"  "Chevy  Chase,"  or 
"Morte  d' Arthur,"  and  even  more  markedly  when  she  held 

35 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Aly6sha  on  her  knee  and  gathered  the  toddlers*  About  her, 
and  sang  to  them  in  her  sweet,  untrained  voice  of  the 
"  Babes  in  the  Woods,"  of  "Lord  Lovel  and  Lady  Nancibel," 
of  "Cock  Robin  and  Jenny  Wren,"  or  the  more  cheerful 
ditties  of  the  Frog  who  would  a- wooing  go,  and  the  Pig  who 
wouldn't  cross  the  stile. 

Baron  Stourdza  yawned  and  tossed  aside  his  book. 
"Fides!  Fides!*  Come  here!"  he  called  in  French,  impe- 
riously, to  Faith. 

Faith  did  not  budge. 

"Fides!"  —gently, "Fides!  "  —  more  gently,  "Fides!  "  — 
most  gently,  entreatingly,  meltingly! 

"  What  is  it,  Baron? "  she  asked,  sweetly,  turning  toward 
him.  He  made  an  imperative  gesture  with  hand  and 
head.  "Come  here!  I  have  something  to  say  to  you." 

Faith  did  not  budge. 

"Don't  you  hear  me?    Aren't  you  coming?"  crossly. 

"I  think  not,"  answered  Faith  slowly  and  with  infinite 
dignity. 

The  baron  sat  bolt  upright  and  frowned  angrily.  "  Don't 
put  on  those  independent  American  airs,"  he  growled, 
"as  if  you  expected  everything  in  the  shape  of  a  man 
to  be  your  slave,  and  to  dance  attendance  on  your  every 
whim.  You  are  much  mistaken  if  you  think  you  can 
make  me  move.  Besides,  it  is  altogether  out  of  place  for 
you,  a  mere  infant  in  short  dresses,  to  refuse  to  come  to  me 
a  respectable,  middle-aged,  married  man." 

"Oh,  not  middle-aged,  Baron!"  expostulated  Faith,  softly. 

The  baron  looked  mollified,  but  he  gathered  himself 
together  and  continued  firmly,  "You  are  sixteen  and  I  am 
thirty-eight,  old  enough  to  be  your  father.  I  am  your 
host  and  your  guardian,  temporarily.  You  owe  me  a 
certain  deference." 


*  Pronounced  Fee-dez.     This  Latin  form  of  the  name  Faith,  is  used 
by  the  French  and  the  Germans. 

36 


THE  "FAIR-SUN" 

Faith  hesitated.  "I  believe  you  are  right,"  she  said, 
thoughtfully.  "Excuse  me,  Baron,  I  will  come,"  and  she 
started  to  rise. 

"Stop!"  cried  the  baron,  springing  to  his  feet.  "Don't 
move!"  He  stared  at  her,  his  dark,  melancholy  eyes  all 
alight  with  admiration.  Then  he  took  off  his  hat  and 
made  her  a  deep,  reverential  salute.  "I  takeoff  my  hat  to 
you,"  he  said.  "You  are  that  most  sweet  and  rare  thing 
upon  God's  earth,  a  woman  that  is  reasonable." 

"But  you  give  such  good  reasons!"  explained  Faith,  and 
again  she  started  to  rise. 

"Don't  get  up,  don't  move!"  cried  the  baron,  impetu- 
ously. "I  am  coming  to  you!" 

His  wife,  from  the  little  summer  house  overhanging  the 
path,  looked  on  with  stupefaction.  "Well!  Well!  My 
Kirill,  the  most  obstinate  and  the  most  indolent  of  men  — 
and  the  dearest,  too,  for  that  matter!  Humph,  I  must 
take  a  leaf  out  of  Faith's  book!  In  her  place  I  would  never 
have  admitted  that  he  was  right.  I  should  have  argued 
for  half  an  hour,  then  he  would  have  turned  his  back 
coldly  and  marched  off,  and  we  should  hardly  have  spoken 
to  each  other  for  three  days.  But  she  smilingly  admits 
his  superior  wisdom  and,  lo,  he  is  at  her  feet!  Well,  we 
live  to  learn,  but,  heigh-ho!  I  am  no  longer  sweet  sixteen, 
—  I'm  afraid  I  could  not  make  it  work."  And  she  sighed 
again,  as  she  thought  regretfully  of  her  thirty-four  years 
and  her  stout,  solid  frame.  "There  was  a  time  when  he 
used  to  jump  for  me,  too,"  she  reflected  with  a  third  sigh, 
but  added  honestly,  "To  be  sure,  I  did  not  argue  with  him 
in  those  days!" 

"Put  up  your  books!  Too  much  reading  is  bad  for  us 
young  people.  We  must  have  a  romp  and  get  up  our 
appetites  for  luncheon,"  commanded  the  baron,  and  he 
soon  had  the  older  children  organized  hi  a  merry  game 
of  "La  Chasse."  Each  was  named  for  something  in  the 

37 


FAITH  BRANDON 

hunt,  the  horses,  the  hounds,  the  horn,  the  guns,  the 
saddles,  the  whips  and  so  forth;  and  he  rattled  off  a 
lively  description  of  the  gathering  of  the  meet  till  all 
the  names  had  been  mentioned,  and  each,  as  called, 
had  taken  his  or  her  place  in  the  ranks.  Then  off 
started  the  leader,  running,  climbing,  jumping,  hallooing, 
in  and  out  among  the  trees,  up  the  hill  and  down  again, 
hither  and  thither  and  everywhere,  until  the  huntsman 
gave  the  signal  for  the  race,  when  every  boy  seized  a  girl's 
hand,  and  in  couples  they  ran  pell-mell  for  the  rendezvous 
at  the  summer  house.  While  the  ranks  were  first  forming, 
portly,  middle-aged  Graf  Alyonkin  had  dropped  his  news- 
paper and  slidden  in  among  his  young  people.  Then  Soln- 
tsoff  grinned,  stood  up,  stretched  his  long,  shapely  limbs, 
laid  a  heavy  stone  on  his  papers  that  they  should  not  be 
scattered  by  the  summer  breeze,  and  stepped  lightly  over 
to  the  merry  group.  The  eldest  Alyonkin  boy,  overweighted 
by  the  dignity  of  his  fifteen  years  and  his  first  long  trousers, 
hesitated  for  a  while,  turning  up  his  nose  at  the  antics  of 
his  elders,  but  ended  by  sneaking  into  the  ranks  just  behind 
Yirina  Pavlovna.  When  the  signal  came  to  disband,  the 
hunters  were  fully  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  rendezvous. 
The  prince  seized  Faith's  hand  and  together  they  ran  laugh- 
ing and  scrambling  down  the  hillside.  He  dragged  her 
through  bushes,  lifted  her  over  rocks,  jumped  her  down  a 
bank.  Their  hats  fell  off,  her  hair  came  unbraided  and 
blew  all  about  her  in  tangled  confusion;  but  on  they  fled, 
breathless  and  joyous. 

"What  has  befallen  Lyova!"*  gasped  Countess  Chernya- 
tina,  as  she  glanced  toward  her  uncle.  "He,  who  is  so 
impatient  of  the  slightest  interruption  to  his  work,  who 
scorns  the  society  of  young  girls,  who  has  ever  been  sober, 
sedate,  unsociable  as  far  as  the  pastimes  of  youth  are  con- 
cerned! Can  I  believe  my  eyes?  How  are  the  mighty  fallen  1 " 

*  Diminutive  of  Lev. 

38 


THE  "FAIR-SUN" 

The  old  prince  laughed  good-humor edly.  "Every  dog 
has  his  day,"  he  chuckled.  "Lyova  was  slow  in  coming 
to  it,  but  his  day  was  bound  to  arrive,  sooner  or  later." 

"Yes,  but "began  the  sister.      Then  she  checked 

herself.    She  could  not  well  say  what  was  on  her  mind 
before  Faith's  hostess. 

The  first  to  arrive  at  the  rendezvous  was  Yirina  with 
Sdsha*  Alyonkin.  The  other  couples  came  tumbling  after 
in  more  or  less  excitement  and  disorder;  and,  last  of  all, 
Solntsoff  with  Faith,  who  was  limping  slightly,  but  was 
cheerfully  and  gayly  making  light  of  her  misfortune. 

She  had  merely  slipped  on  some  loose  pebbles  and  turned 
her  ankle  a  little,  enough  to  hurt  for  the  moment  but  not 
to  be  of  any  lasting  consequence.  But  how  concerned 
and  kind  the  prince  had  been!  He  had  looked  quite  pale 
with  anxiety  at  first.  He  had  knelt  and  taken  off  her 
shoe  to  make  sure  that  there  was  no  sprain  or  dislocation, 
and  had  bandaged  the  ankle  tightly  with  his  handkerchief  in 
a  way  that  seemed  to  Faith  a  marvel  of  skill.  When  she 
tried  to  walk,  how  solicitous  and  tender  he  was,  how  anxious 
to  support  and  help  her!  Why,  he  would  have  lifted  her 
up  and  carried  her  home  in  his  arms,  if  she  would  have  let 
him!  That  he  was  strong  enough  to  do  so  she  knew,  for 
she  had  seen  him  carry  his  uncle  up  and  down  a  long  flight 
of  stairs,  and  the  uncle  was  no  small  man. 

Faith,  who  had  never  been  accustomed  to  being  waited 
on  in  all  her  healthy  young  life  but  who,  on  the  contrary, 
had  always  been  the  one  to  wait  on  others,  found  it  very 
strange  and  rather  funny  to  be  the  object  of  such  tender 
solicitude.  She  actually  giggled  outright,  in  spite  of  the 
pain,  when  he  was  binding  her  ankle,  and  especially  when  he 
suggested  carrying  her.  It  was  so  exactly  like  a  heroine 
in  a  novel  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  must  be  dreaming.  Hero- 
ines  always  sprained  their  ankles  and  were  carried  incredible 

*  Diminutive  of  Aleksandr. 

39 


FAITH  BRANDON 

distances  in  the  hero's  arms.  By  good  luck,  the  prince  did 
Dot  understand  why  she  was  giggling,  but  thought  her  a 
little  hysterical  from  the  fall  and  made  her  take  some- 
thing from  a  small  flask,  which  he  carried  in  case  his  uncle 
should  be  ill  or  over-fatigued.  Faith  swallowed  it  obe- 
diently, though  nearly  choking  over  it  in  her  wild  desire  to 
laugh. 

But  if  it  was  funny  to  be  the  object  of  so  much  attention 
and  kindness,  it  was  also  very,  very  pleasant!  She  certainly 
liked  it! 

As  the  whole  party  wandered  back  to  the  hotel,  Stourdza 
insisted  on  her  taking  his  arm,  and  the  prince  left  her  to 
help  his  uncle's  valet  lift  the  wheel-chair  over  some  steep 
places  in  the  path.  It  lacked  still  half-an-hour  of  luncheon 
time  when  they  arrived  at  their  rooms. 

"  Faith,  you  must  have  a  warm  bath  and  lie  on  the  lounge 
in  my  room  and  have  your  luncheon  brought  up,"  com- 
manded the  baroness.  " Now,  do  not  rebel!  A  fall  like  that 
is  always  more  or  less  of  a  strain." 

"Solntsoff  is  going  back  for  his  hat,  and  incidentally  for 
yours,  Fides,  and  I  am  going  with  him,"  announced  the 
baron. 

"Oh,  my  hair  ribbon!  Please  look  for  that,  too!" 
begged  Faith.  "It  is  the  only  one  I  have  of  that 
color." 

"Hats  and  ribbons,  'blankets  and  pins',"  muttered  the 
baron.  " '  When  a  man's  married,'  —  or  in  love  — '  his 
trouble  begins.'"  He  said  it,  however,  in  the  German 
equivalent  for  the  famous  couplet,  as  he  was  not  familiar 
with  English,  and  he  sauntered  off  obediently  with  his 
companion. 

The  two  figures  were  hardly  out  of  sight  when  the  baroness 
sat  down  with  a  groan.  "That  man  has  my  keys!"  she 
cried. 

"What  man?"  asked  Faith. 

40 


THE  "FAIR-SUN" 

"That  man  that  has  just  left,  Kirill,  my  husband  Isn't 
that  exactly  like  him?  The  most  vexatious,  trying  crea- 
ture! He  insisted  on  locking  up  everything,  boxes,  ward- 
robes, chest  of  drawers,  before  we  went  to  spend  the  morn- 
ing hi  the  woods,  and  pocketed  the  keys.  Now  that  you 
want  to  take  a  bath  and  get  into  a  comfortable  negligee, 
and  I  want  to.  put  on  a  cool,  fresh  dress  for  luncheon, 
here  we  have  to  sit  in  our  hot,  dusty  things,  waiting  until 
he  chooses  to  return!"  and  the  warm,  irritated  woman 
sprang  up  and  walked  angrily  and  restlessly  about  the 
room.  "So  fussy  one  minute  and  so  careless  the  next,  he 
is  enough  to  wear  out  the  patience  of  a  saint!"  she  com- 
plained. 

Faith  felt  very  uncomfortable.  The  baron  and  baroness 
were  each  so  good-natured  and  nice  to  everybody  else,  but 
spent  too  much  of  the  time  nagging  and  bickering  with  each 
other;  not  in  any  rough,  loud  way,  for  the  baron  was  a 
courteous  man,  even  to  his  wife,  and  she  was  really  well- 
bred  in  spite  of  a  somewhat  blunt,  off-hand  manner.  But 
she  was  undoubtedly  impatient  and  fault-finding,  and  he 
returned  it  with  quiet  sarcasm  or  cold  withdrawal.  Yet 
Faith  could  have  sworn  they  were  really  fond  of  each  other. 

"I  shall  give  him  a  piece  of  my  mind  when  he  comes 
back.  He  ought  to  be  made  to  feel  what  inconvenience  and 
annoyance  his  carelessness  has  put  us  to.  But  he  will  just 
assume  that  lofty  look  of  his  and  lay  all  the  blame  on  me. 
What  would  you  do  with  such  a  trying  man,  Faith?" 

"What  should  I  do?"  echoed  Faith,  startled.  What 
would  she  do,  indeed,  if  she  had  a  husband,  one  who  meant 
well  but  was  forgetful?  Somehow,  in  the  vision  that  rose 
before  her,  he  did  not  seem  to  be  a  short,  dark  man  like  the 
baron,  but  was  vaguely  big,  and  pleasant  and  fair.  She 
did  not  feel  that  he  deserved  to  be  scolded.  She  could 
only  remember  that  he  had  meant  to  be  kind  and  careful, 
and  that  she  herself  was  often  forgetful. 

41 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"I  think,"  she  said,  looking  up  laughingly,  "that  when  I 
saw  him  coming,  I  should  run  to  meet  him  and  throw  my 
arms  round  his  neck  and  say,  'I  was  never  more  glad  to  see 
you ! '  And,  you  know,  the  longer  he  had  kept  me  waiting, 
the  truer  it  would  be!" 

"Nonsense!"  sniffed  the  baroness  contemptuously,  flounc- 
ing out  of  the  room. 

Faith  sat  by  the  window  and  watched  for  the  men  to 
return.  Luncheon  had  long  been  announced  before  she 
at  last  saw  them  come  sauntering  toward  the  hotel,  chat- 
ting genially,  wholly  unconscious  of  any  cause  for  haste. 

"Oh,  they  are  coming  now,  Baroness!  The  baron  has 
my  hat  perched  on  his  stick  and  is  waving  it  at  me,  and 
Knyaz  Solntsoff  has  his  arms  full  of  ferns  and  wild  flowers. 
Why,  he  must  mean  them  for  you,  for  he  has  given  them 
all  to  the  baron  and  is  going  over  to  his  dacha.'1 

She  heard  Stourdza  coming  toward  the  sitting-room. 
Then  the  baroness  suddenly  returned  from  her  bedroom  and 
opened  the  door  to  the  returning  prodigal. 

"Please  take  off  my  hat  for  me,"  he  said,  "both  my  hands 
are  full." 

She  took  off  his  hat,  then  she  burst  out  laughing  and 
threw  her  arms  about  his  neck.  "You  dear,  incorrigible 
Kirill!"  she  exclaimed.  "I  never  was  more  glad  to  see 
you  in  all  my  life!"  and  she  kissed  him  heartily  on  both 
cheeks. 

The  baron  looked  keenly  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
laughing  women.  "Humph!  I  don't  understand  it.  I 
am  a  plain  man  and  your  wiles  are  too  much  for  me.  Here, 
Fides,  relieve  me  of  this  vegetable  matter !  For  a  man  who 
loathes  mud  and  insects  and  rocks  and  briers  as  much  as 
I  do,  you  must  confess  that  I  have  endured  a  great  deal  for 
your  sake  the  last  hour,  trudging  through  swamps  and 
thickets  with  that  big  Muscovy  bear.  Nothing  would  do 
but  he  must  get  you  wonderful  specimens  of  ferns  that  only 

42 


THE  "FAIR-SUN" 

grow  in  impenetrable  morasses,  and  wild  flowers  that  could 
only  be  found  halfway  up  precipices.  I  hope  you  are 
grateful." 

"For  me!"  exclaimed  Faith.  "Do  you  mean  that  he 
got  them  for  me?" 

"Take  them  quick!  There!  And  your  hat!  And  here 
is  a  letter  for  you!  Never  mind  thanks.  Why  aren't 
you  ready  for  luncheon?  It  is  long  past  the  hour  and  I 
am  starved."  Again  both  women  laughed  and  again  he 
scrutinized  one  and  the  other.  Then  he  gave  a  sudden 
start,  turned  red,  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and 
drew  forth  a  bunch  of  keys.  He  stood  there,  looking  the 
picture  of  guilt  and  misery.  Beating  his  breast  with  a 
tragic  gesture,  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  laid  the  keys  at  his 
wife's  feet. 

"Do  what  you  please  to  me,"  he  sighed.  "No  fate  is 
too  bad  for  me." 

But  she  only  laughed  again  and  patted  him  on  the 
shoulder. 

"Get  up,  silly  fellow!"  she  said,  "and  for  your  penance 
you  can  unlock  all  the  boxes  for  me."  He  kissed  her  hand 
and,  springing  up,  went  gayly  about  his  task,  while  his 
wife  winked  at  Faith  behind  his  back. 

"And  my  ribbon!  Did  you  see  that  anywhere? "  inquired 
Faith,  anxiously. 

"Your  ribbon?  Oh,  your  ribbon!  Er  —  was  it  a  blue 
ribbon?" 

"Yes,  a  lovely  shade  that  is  very  hard  to  find." 

"Well,  it  will  be  harder  to  find  than  ever,  now,"  said 
the  baron,  mysteriously. 

"  Why,  what  do  you  mean  ?     Where  is  it?  " 

"Wild  horses  shall  not  drag  that  information  from  me. 
Never  will  I  betray  the  secrets  of  a  friend." 

"Please  don't  tease  me!  Do  you  know  where  it  is,  or 
do  you  not?  " 

43 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"Do  I  know  where  it  is?  Shall  I  perjure  myself,  or 
shall  I  betray  a  friend?"  and  with  a  gesture  of  despair  the 
baron  threw  out  his  hands  imploringly.  "In  either  case 
I  shall  be  damned!  Fides,  I  cannot  perjure  myself,  for 
then  I  should  suffer  everlastingly,  but  if  I  betray  a  friend 
he  only  suffers  temporarily.  I  will  be  heroic,  —  I  will 
sacrifice  my  friend!  Yes,  I  know  where  your  ribbon  is. 
It  is  —  in  —  Solntsoff 's  —  left-hand  —  vest  —  pocket  — 
right  —  over  —  here,"  and  he  tapped  his  coat  significantly 
on  the  spot  under  which  one's  heart  is  supposed  to  lie. 
"And,"  he  added,  "if  you  wish  to  get  it  back,  you  will 
have  to  pay  a  big,  big  price  for  it." 

Faith  giggled,  turned  red  and,  grasping  her  flowers,  buried 
her  blushing  face  in  the  cool  ferns  and  wild  orchids. 

"  Now  I  can  keep  his  handkerchief,"  she  thought,  de- 
lightedly. 

The  baroness  pinched  the  girl's  crimson  cheeks.  "He 
is  very  fond  of  you,  lucky,  lucky  little  girl  that  you  are 
to  have  so  splendid  a  man  for  your  friend!  " 

But  Faith  fled  to  her  own  room.  There  she  sank  into 
a  chair  and  clasping  her  hands,  prayed  with  all  her  young 
heart  that  she  might  be  good  enough  and  fortunate  enough 
to  have  him  for  a  friend  all  her  life! 

Then,  with  cheeks  still  burning,  with  glistening  eyes  and 
smiling  lips,  she  took  up  and  opened  the  letter  which  the 
baron  had  brought  her.  It  was  from  her  stepsister,  Gene- 
vieve. 

"DEAR  FAITH: 

"Judging  from  letters  I  had  recently  from  Yalta,  you  are 
constantly  with  a  Russian  so-called  'prince'  whom  you  know 
nothing  about,  and  who  is  evidently  amusing  himself  at 
your  expense.  I  cannot  warn  you  enough  to  be  extremely 
careful  and  never,  never,  under  any  circumstances,  go  any- 
where alone  with  him.  You  have  not  read  as  many  Russian 
novels  as  I  have  or  you  would  know  that  he  is  the  type 
of  man  that  their  novelists  delight  in  picturing,  the  type  of 

44 


THE  "FAIR-SUN" 

Eugene  Ontgin,  Dimitri  Rudin  and  Pechdrin,  who  have 
wasted  their  youth  in  dissipation  and,  as  they  grow  older, 
like  to  philander  around  with  young,  unsophisticated  girls. 
They  do  not  mean  them  any  actual  harm;  but  it  interests 
them  to  teach  the  young  things  their  first  lessons  in  love- 
making,  and  they  enjoy  the  flattery  and  incense  of  their 
hero-worship.  They  do  not  dream  of  marrying  them. 
They  simply  indulge  in  the  amusement  of  breaking  an  inno- 
cent heart  to  pass  away  the  time  between  their  more  serious 
love  affairs. 

"Now  a 'foreign  man,  a  gay  bachelor  of  Prince  Solntsoff's 
age  is  sure  to  have  had  a  good  many  affairs  of  the  heart 
and  to  be  pretty  well  experienced  in  idle  love-making.  A 
man  of  his  rank,  precarious  position  and  limited  means  is 
not  going  to  marry  an  American  girl  unless  she  is  an  heiress; 
and  you  may  be  very  sure  that  he  has  informed  himself 
pretty  accurately  of  your  family  affairs  and  knows  that 
you  are  no  heiress,  that  you  are  not,  in  fact,  entitled  to  a 
single  penny  of  your  own. 

"You  are  at  a  romantic,  imaginative  age,  and  you  are 
attracted  by  the  glamor  of  his  title.  But  in  Russia,  'princes' 
are  thick  as  blackberries;  and  as  for  the  man  himself,  you 
must  look  beyond  the  mere  superficial  veneer  of  charming 
manners  and  agreeable  conversation,  the  stock-in-trade  of 
all  these  twopenny  aristocrats,  and  only  consider  that  he 
is  an  impecunious,  unprincipled  man  who  thinks  that  he 
can  indulge  himself  with  impunity  in  an  idle  summer  flir- 
tation with  a  bright,  amusing  young  girl,  because  she  is  so 
extremely  young  that  nobody  will  attribute  serious  inten- 
tions to  him.  You  must  show  character,  and  protect  your- 
self. Restrain  your  too  evident  fondness  for  this  man, 
which  is  making  you  the  talk  of  the  town,  and  break  with 
him  at  once,  without  waiting  for  us  to  come  and  take  you 
away.  He  will  respect  you  more  for  it  than  for  your  foolish 
eagerness  to  be  with  him  and  his  party  all  the  time.  You 
will  never  see  him  again  after  he  leaves  Yalta,  and  some  day 
you  will  thank  us  for  nipping  this  unfortunate,  schoolgirl 
affair  in  the  bud. 

"Your  affectionate  sister, 

"GENEVIEVE  BRANDON." 


45 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   LUDLOWS  AND  BRANDONS 
"The  tender  grace  of  a  day  that  is  dead." — Tennyson. 

ON  THE  slope  of  Beacon  Hill  in  Boston,  in  the  one-time 
centre  of  its  aristocratic  and  literary  life,  there  stood  a  modest 
house,  with  bay-windowed  front  and  terraced  lawn,  where 
dwelt  an  elderly  widow  and  two  middle-aged,  spinster  daugh- 
ters. Within,  though  it  gave  evidence  of  restricted  means, 
the  modest  house  also  gave  unmistakable  proof  of  highly 
cultivated,  cosmopolitan  tastes  of  an  age  that  is  past.  The 
well-worn  carpets,  furniture,  and  ornaments  were  of  French 
design  of  the  Second  Empire,  and  had  been  choice  and 
elegant  in  their  day.  On  the  walls  hung  portraits  of  dis- 
tinguished-looking men  and  richly  gowned  women  in  mid- 
Victorian  dress,  together  with  well-painted  copies  of  the  old 
masters.  Miniatures  and  framed  photographs  of  royal  fami- 
lies and  European  statesmen  of  a  former  generation  stood 
on  mantel-pieces  and  tables.  Books  representing  classic 
literature  in  the  principal  modern  languages  were  everywhere 
in  abundance.  Rare  editions,  choice  engravings,  exquisite 
pieces  of  porcelain  and  bronze  met  the  eye.  A  heavily  gilded 
Erard  harp  stood  in  one  corner  of  the  drawing  room  and,  near 
it,  a  now  somewhat  decrepit  grand-piano  of  the  same  make. 
The  tapestries  that  hung  from  the  walls,  the  rugs  on  the  floor 
were  all  of  value  and  artistic  worth.  The  treasures  seemed 
to  rest  uneasily  in  their  crowded  quarters  in  the  narrow  rooms 
of  the  modest  house. 

The  three  ladies  looked  equally  out  of  place.  Their  tall, 
stately  forms,  their  aristocratic  bearing,  their  courtly  man- 

46 


THE  LUDLOWS  AND  BRANDONS 

ners,  the  distinction  of  their  utterance  as  they  conversed 
together  in  exquisite  French,  German,  or  Italian,  seemed  to 
require  the  setting  of  some  spacious,  old-world  palace.  Little 
wonder  if  they  also  felt  themselves  out  of  keeping  with  their 
narrow  surroundings. 

Descended  from  an  old  Puritan  family  of  Massachusetts 
Bay  Colony,  their  father,  Edgar  Ludlow,  a  graduate  of  Har- 
vard and  a  student  of  history  and  law  at  the  universities  of 
Heidelberg  and  Cambridge,  had  early  received  a  diplomatic 
appointment  from  the  government  of  Washington  to  one  of 
the  small  German  courts.  From  thence  he  had  risen  to  be 
minister  plenipotentiary  at  more  important  capitals,  and  for 
thirty  years  had  lived  at  one  European  court  or  another 
without  returning  to  his  native  land.  Preeminently  a 
scholar,  his  works  on  history  and  constitutional  government 
had  taken  their  place  as  authorities  among  English-speaking 
students.  His  young  family  had  grown  up  on  the  continent 
in  the  atmosphere  of  court  and  diplomatic  life,  and  had  been 
carefully  bred  according  to  the  best  European  models. 
They  had  shared  the  studies  and  the  pastimes  of  royalty 
and  nobility.  His  son  had  been  trained  at  Oxford  and  had 
taken  orders  in  the  church  of  England;  his  eldest  daughter 
was  married  to  an  English  diplomat  of  noble  connections; 
his  youngest  daughter  was  betrothed  to  a  German  noble  of 
high  rank,  when,  without  warning,  the  minister  plenipo- 
tentiary shuffled  off  this  mortal  coil  and  the  dignities  at- 
tached to  it.  Then  it  was  found  that  he  had  left  his  family 
unprovided  for. 

It  was  true  that  Minister  Ludlow  had  carried  a  life  in- 
surance of  fifty  thousand  dollars  in  favor  of  his  widow 
and  daughters,  but  he  had  borrowed  more  than  that  sum 
to  meet  the  expenses  of  the  last  two  or  three  years.  In  vain 
the  family  lawyers  assured  the  ladies  that  they  were  not 
legally  responsible  for  the  debts  of  the  husband  and  father. 
They  seemed  unable  to  follow  the  reasoning  of  the  men  of 

47 


FAITH  BRANDON 

law.  Without  complaint  or  question  they  applied  the  life 
insurance  to  the  payment  of  the  minister's  indebtedness,  the 
betrothed  daughter  breaking  off  her  engagement  that  the 
money  provided  for  her  dowry  might  be  directed  to  this 
purpose.  Then  they  packed  up  the  most  treasured  of  the 
books  and  works  of  art  carefully  gathered  by  the  late  minis- 
ter, sold  their  jewelry  and  other  valuable  personal  belong- 
ings, and  found  their  way  back  to  the  land  of  their  birth, 
the  land  of  which  the  younger  ladies  had  no  memory. 

The  widow  Ludlow  had  inherited  from  her  parents  the 
modest  house  on  Mt.  Vernon  Street  and  an  income  of 
eight  hundred  dollars  a  year.  Her  memory  of  the  Beacon 
Hill  of  her  youth  was  that  of  the  centre  of  a  literary  Boston 
where  men  of  letters,  philosophers,  men  of  the  learned  and 
scientific  professions,  women  of  thought  and  culture  and  wit, 
met  in  delightful  simplicity  of  social  intercourse.  In  this 
society  the  Ludlows  and  Brandons  of  forty  and  fifty  years 
before  had  shone  conspicuous.  In  this  society  she  fancied 
that  she  and  her  daughters  would  find  a  congenial  atmosphere 
where  their  birth  and  antecedents,  their  talents  and  accom- 
plishments would  be  everything,  their  present  enforced  sim- 
plicity of  living  no  barrier  to  social  eminence. 

A  cruel  disillusion  awaited  her.  During  her  thirty  years' 
absence  a  new  generation  had  grown  up  to  whom  the  name 
of  Ludlow  had  little  or  no  significance.  Former  friends  had 
died  or  had  moved  to  the  suburbs,  or  to  the  newer,  more 
fashionable  quarters  of  the  city.  The  old  figures  of  literary 
Boston  had  one  by  one  disappeared.  A  few  survivors  who 
maintained  the  old  traditions  called  upon  the  returned 
wanderers  and  found  them  out  of  touch  with  present-day  life 
and  ideas.  The  newer  Boston  had  no  place  for  these  old- 
world  figures. 

With  the  exquisite  sensibility  of  high  breeding,  the  ladies 
soon  discerned  this  and  grew  more  and  more  reserved,  more 
patiently  resigned  to  a  colorless,  dull  life,  devoid  of  the  social, 

48 


THE  LUDLOWS  AND  BRANDONS 

intellectual  and  political  interests  and  the  masculine  com- 
panionships that  had  surrounded  them  during  their  father's 
diplomatic  career.  The  old  order  had  changed,  and  into 
the  new  they  had  neither  the  means  nor  the  desire  to  find 
their  way. 

But  one  thing  pressed  upon  them,  the  difficulty  of  making 
eight  hundred  dollars  support  three  ladies  unaccustomed  to 
domestic  work  and  in  more  or  less  frail  health.  There  was 
but  this  sum  with  which  to  pay  taxes  and  repairs  upon  the 
house,  servants'  wages,  doctors'  bills,  food,  clothing,  heat 
and  light,  and  many  other  things  desirable  or  undesirable. 
To  stretch  this  sum  the  ladies  must  turn  their  accomplish- 
ments to  account. 

So  Miss  Louisa  Ludlow,  a  pupil  of  Marmontel  in  Paris, 
advised  her  Boston  acquaintance  that  she  was  prepared  to 
give  lessons  in  advanced  pianoforte  playing.  But  at  that 
time  the  French  school  was  only  beginning  to  get  a  hearing, 
and  expensive  finishing  lessons  were  sought  only  from  pro- 
fessional masters.  Reduced  gentlewomen  were  supposed 
to  confine  themselves  to  teaching  beginners  at  starvation 
rates.  No  pupils  came  to  Miss  Louisa. 

To  Miss  Adele  the  world  was  kinder.  It  was  said  that 
she  had  a  broken  heart,  as  well  as  an  extensive  knowledge 
of  modern  languages  and  standard  literature.  A  broken 
heart,  especially  when  said  to  have  been  broken  by  one  of 
princely  rank,  united  to  fine  eyes,  an  aquiline  nose  and  a 
distinguished  accent  of  the  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  made  an 
interesting  combination.  It  became  almost  a  fad  among  a 
small,  exclusive,  and  highly  cultured  set  of  the  Back  Bay  to 
patronize  the  classes  in  French  drama  and  Italian  poetry 
which  were  held  two  afternoons  a  week  in  the  parlors  of  the 
Mt.  Vernon  Street  house  by  Miss  Adele  Ludlow. 

A  few  years  after  their  return  their  income  was  lurther 
enlarged  from  another  source,  the  board  of  Faith  Brandon. 

It  has  been  said  that  the  eldest  Miss  Ludlow  had  married, 

49 


FAITH  BRANDON 

when  very  young,  a  rising  English  diplomat  of  noble  con- 
nections. The  Honorable  Robert  Milbanke,  brother  of  the 
clever  but  crippled  Viscount  Solway,  died  in  the  course  of 
time  leaving  an  only  son  as  heir-presumptive  to  the  title. 
It  had  been  a  hard  struggle  for  the  widowed  Mrs.  Mil- 
banke to  educate  her  boy  as  he  should  be  educated  for  his 
position,  but  she  proudly  refused  all  help  till  his  sixteenth 
year,  when  the  noble  invalid  begged  to  be  allowed  to  adopt 
his  heir  as  a  son.  Feeling  that  the  boy  had  reached  an  age 
when  he  needed  masculine  guidance,  the  mother  sorrowfully 
acquiesced  in  her  brother-in-law's  idea  of  adoption.  Re- 
turning to  America  to  visit  her  mother  and  sisters,  she 
accepted,  at  thirty-six  years  of  age,  an  offer  of  marriage  from 
a  distant  cousin  on  her  mother's  side  of  the  family,  Charles 
Brandon,  distinguished  as  scientist  and  astronomer. 

Professor  Brandon  was  a  widower,  with  two  daughters, 
who  were  receiving  French  lessons  from  Miss  Adele  Ludlow. 
A  brilliant,  versatile  man,  he  was  obliged  in  the  interests  of 
his  career  to  travel  much,  making  observations  in  his  special 
field  and  giving  lectures.  After  five  years  of  married  life 
his  scientific  researches  carried  him  to  Brazil  and  Argentina 
for  a  two  years'  stay.  Unfamiliar  with  the  Spanish  and 
Portuguese  tongues,  it  occurred  to  him  that  it  would  be  an 
agreeable  thing  to  have  the  assistance  of  his  talented  wife. 
Little  Faith,  now  four  years  of  age,  it  would  be  well  to  leave 
with  the  Ludlow  ladies.  She  would  be  too  much  care  for  her 
mother  on  their  long  travels. 

Mrs.  Brandon,  for  the  second  time,  was  called  upon  to 
part  with  a  beloved  child.  Imbued  with  the  old-fashioned 
idea  that  a  woman's  first  duty  is  to  her  husband,  she  did  not 
hesitate,  though  it  cost  her  heart  many  a  pang  to  leave  the 
little  girl,  the  darling  and  consolation  of  her  middle-age.  But 
her  mother  and  sisters  would  be  happy  to  have  a  child  in 
their  lonely  home,  and  the  generous  payments  that  she  would 
make  them  for  Faith's  board  and  education  would  afford 


THE  LUDLOWS  AND  BRANDONS 

them  many  comforts,  and  perhaps  obviate  the  necessity  of 
their  continuing  their  classes. 

The  two  years'  absence  extended  to  nine;  and  when  Mrs. 
Brandon  at  length  came  back  to  Boston  and  to  her  child,  it  was 
only  to  die  of  pneumonia  within  a  few  weeks  of  her  return. 

So  it  came  about  that  the  home  of  Faith  Brandon's  child- 
hood had  been  the  small  house  on  Mt.  Vernon  Street  with  its 
old-world  treasures  and  traditions.  The  eager,  imaginative, 
large-eyed  child  led  a  lonely  life  among  the  sad,  delicate, 
disappointed  women  who  had  no  experience  of  childhood 
and  its  ways.  But  fortunately  she  did  not  realize  her  lone- 
liness. Within  the  confines  of  the  house  and  garden  she  was 
allowed  a  large  liberty,  restrained  only  by  the  rules  of  honor 
and  of  a  kindly  consideration  of  others.  She  grew  up  from  her 
fifth  to  her  fourteenth  year  accustomed  to  the  manners,  the 
languages  of  another  continent,  the  traditions  of  another 
age.  Her  reserved  and  somewhat  stately  and  formal,  but 
most  affectionate  and  gentle-mannered  relatives,  taught 
her  of  their  own  accomplishments  and  renewed  their  youth 
amusing  her  with  anecdotes  of  their  court  and  foreign  life. 
They  read  with  her  selections  from  the  masterpieces  of  the 
classic  literature  of  the  continent;  they  familiarized  her  with 
its  politics,  its  history,  its  customs.  In  English  literature, 
with  which  the  good  ladies  were  less  acquainted,  Faith  was 
left  to  browse  at  will.  They  vaguely  supposed  everything 
English  to  be  "safe,"  though  carefully  guiding  her  young 
steps  amid  the  pitfalls  and  snares  that  beset  the  path  of  the 
unwary  wanderer  in  the  literary  pastures  of  the  continent. 

Her  mother's  death  wrought  a  great  change  in  Faith's 
life.  Mr.  Brandon,  on  his  return  from  South  America,  had 
taken  a  house  on  the  Bay  State  Road.  His  two  daughters 
persuaded  him  that  it  was  an  extra  and  unnecessary  expense 
to  pay  for  Faith's  board  with  her  aunts.  Besides,  the 
child's  old-fashioned,  old-world  breeding  would  be  strangely 
out  of  place  in  modern  American  life.  She  must  live  in 


FAITH  BRANDON 

her  father's  home,  must  go  to  school  with  other  girls,  be 
prepared  for  college,  have  playmates  of  her  own  age  and  be 
taught  practical  things. 

In  her  new  life  Faith  learned  many  things  besides  Latin  and 
algebra.  She  learned  that  it  was  sentimental  and  absurdly 
out  of  date  to  play  the  harp.  She  learned  that  the  piano- 
forte music  of  Mendelssohn  and  Schulhoff  and  Stephen  Heller 
was  antiquated  and  stilted.  She  learned  that  it  was  affected 
and  queer  to  courtesy  on  entering  or  leaving  a  room,  or  to  kiss 
the  hands  of  older  ladies.  She  learned  that  girls  of  her  age 
were  not  interested  in  Tasso's  and  Manzoni's  heroes  and 
Schiller's  heroines,  that  they  only  stared  when  she  talked 
of  the  battles  of  Bouvines  or  Poltava,  or  the  Siege  of 
Belgrade,  or  the  exploits  of  Rodrigo  and  Scanderbeg  and 
Charles  the  Twelfth,  the  knights  of  Malta  or  the  Seven 
Years'  War.  Faith  had  never  felt  lonely  in  the  isolation  of 
the  Ludlow  home,  but  among  girls  of  her  own  age,  chatter- 
ing of  dancing  classes  and  operettas,  of  football  heroes,  of 
chorus  girls  and  matinee  idols,  she  suffered  the  keenest  pangs 
of  loneliness,  shyness  and  self-depreciation. 

In  the  Ludlow  home  Faith  had  had  a  daintily  furnished 
little  room,  opening  into  that  of  her  aunt.  Here  her  toilet 
was  carefully  supervised,  her  appointments  ordered  with  ex- 
quisite neatness,  her  dress  chosen  for  childish  simplicity  and 
becomingness,  her  diet  watched,  her  health  guarded.  In  her 
father's  handsome  house  she  was  banished  to  a  large,  scantily 
furnished  room  in  the  mansard,  among  the  servants.  No  one 
watched  her  or  knew  whether  she  kept  it  in  order,  or  whether 
she  had  what  was  necessary  for  her  comfort  or  her  health. 
Her  sisters  clothed  her  from  their  cast-off  costumes,  and  kept 
her  supply  of  cheap  shoes,  coarse  handkerchiefs  and  under- 
wear at  a  minimum.  Her  school  hours  did  not  fit  in  with  the 
family  meals,  so  she  was  left  to  pick  up  a  carelessly  prepared, 
uninviting  breakfast  before  starting  for  school,  returning  in 
the  middle  of  the  afternoon  to  a  luncheon  of  cold  scraps  in  the 

52 


THE  LUDLOWS  AND  BRANDONS 

butler's  pantry.  If,  as  usually  happened,  there  were  guests  at 
dinner,  she  was  not  expected  to  appear,  but  a  nondescript  meal 
was  served  to  her  in  the  maid's  sewing-room.  The  drawing- 
rooms  and  library  were  reserved  for  the  Brandon  ladies  and 
their  visitors.  Faith  would  be  in  the  way.  So  as  soon  as 
her  dinner  was  finished  she  was  expected  to  take  her  books 
to  her  cheerless,  lonely  room,  study  her  lessons  for  the  fol- 
lowing day,  and  go  to  bed  as  soon  as  they  were  learned. 

This  dreary  life  had  continued  for  two  years  when  Mr. 
Brandon  was  called  to  Europe  to  attend  a  congress  of  scientists, 
and  his  three  daughters  accompanied  him  abroad,  where,  sud- 
denly, Faith  became  the  most  courted  member  of  the  family. 

For  not  only  was  she  helpful  to  them  in  her  familiarity  with 
languages,  of  which  they  had  no  conversational  knowledge, 
but  her  stepsisters,  still  comparatively  young  women  and 
socially  ambitious,  found  that  it  was  chiefly  on  Faith's 
half-brother,  with  his  diplomatic  and  noble  connections,  and 
upon  the  aristocratic  friends  of  Faith's  grandmother  and 
aunts  that  they  must  rely  for  introduction  into  the  exclusive 
upper  circles  of  London,  Paris,  Vienna  and  Rome.  Rupert 
Milbanke,  recently  a  widower,  and  heir-presumptive  to  a 
distinguished  title,  had  become  a  most  desirable  acquaint- 
ance; and  Genevieve  Brandon,  twenty-eight  years  of  age, 
with  flaxen  hair  and  Madonna-like  face,  felt  that  she  was 
well  fitted  to  console  the  bereaved  young  man  and  eventually 
become  Viscountess  Solway.  Both  sisters  grew,  all  at  once, 
very  solicitous  of  Faith's  welfare  and  very  attentive  to  the 
relations  from  whom  they  hoped  to  receive  their  passports 
into  the  great  world. 

But  they  were  doomed  to  bitter  disappointment.  Gentle 
and  well-bred  as  were  the  Ludlow  ladies  they  did  not  lack 
spirit.  Faith  was  the  apple  of  their  eye.  She  had  been 
removed  from  them  only  to  be  neglected  and  themselves 
slighted  and  depreciated  by  the  Misses  Brandon.  Therefore, 
Faith  went  to  Europe  laden  down  with  letters  to  the  families 

53 


FAITH  BRANDON 

of  elderly  diplomats,  statesmen,  and  nobles,  to  whose  kind 
care  she  was  tenderly  recommended  by  their  former  friends, 
but  in  these  letters  no  mention  was  made  of  Faith's  step- 
sisters. After  looking  through  them  and  finding  their  own 
names  omitted,  the  young  women  confiscated  the  letters  and 
consigned  them  all  to  the  flames. 

To  Genevieve  Brandon  came  a  yet  more  bitter  blow. 
When,  in  former  years,  Rupert  Milbanke  had  visited  his 
American  connections  it  was  as  a  married  man  in  whom 
she  took  no  interest.  On  his  last  visit  he  and  his  wife 
had  arrived,  unexpected,  at  the  Brandon  home.  They 
had  found  Faith  in  the  pantry  trying  to  pick  up  a  cold 
luncheon,  had  climbed  with  her  to  her  bare,  cheerless 
room  in  the  servants'  quarters,  and  had  observed  with 
indignation  the  neglected  condition  of  the  motherless  child. 
Rupert  Milbanke  was  an  unforgiving  man.  When,  two 
years  later,  Genevieve  Brandon  came  to  Europe  and  en- 
deavored to  charm  the  slim,  distinguished-looking  young 
diplomat  and  prospective  viscount  with  her  flaxen  attractions, 
and  to  win  his  heart  by  her  sweet  devotion  to  his  motherless 
boys,  he  was  as  cold  as  common  decency  would  allow.  He 
made  much  of  his  little  half-sister,  petted  her  and  held  out  to 
her  every  promise  of  a  delightful  social  career  as  soon  as 
she  should  be  old  enough.  But  to  her  sisters,  he  opened  not 
a  single  door.  With  Genevieve  he  even  took  a  certain  satis- 
faction, natural  perhaps,  but  scarcely  diplomatic,  in  treat- 
ing her  with  what  almost  amounted  to  open  discourtesy. 

"Do  you  think,  my  flaxen  Madonna,"  he  said  to  himself, 
bitterly,  "that  when  I  have  witnessed  your  neglect  of  one 
motherless  child,  I  would  deliberately  put  two  others  at 
your  mercy?  Or  that  remembering  how  you  criticized  and 
ridiculed  the  Briticisms  of  Rupert-married,  I  would  trust 
your  blandishments  of  Rupert-become-eligible?  No,  fair 
Genevieve,  I  do  not  forget!" 

And  Genevieve  was  to  prove  that  she,  also,  had  a  memory ! 

54 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  HEART  OF  A  SCHOOLGIRL 

"The  day  retires,  the  mists  of  night  are  spread 
Slowly  o'er  nature,  darkening  as  they  rise; 
The  gloomy  clouds  are  gathering  round  our  heads, 
The  twilight's  latest  glimmering  gently  dies, 
The  stars  awake  in  heaven's  abyss  of  blue." 

—  Lomondsojf  (1711) 

FAITH  read  her  sister's  letter  from  beginning  to  end. 
Shame  and  distress  at  being  thought  forward  and  indelicate 
in  her  conduct  struggled  with  rebellion  and  anger  at  charges 
against  the  hondr  and  disinterestedness  of  her  "Big  Friend. " 

"I  did  not  expect  anything  but  his  friendship,"  she  pro- 
tested, sobbingly.  "He  did  not  ask  for  anything  but  my 
companionship.  I  was  happy  just  to  be  his  little  comrade 
and  to  be  with  him  and  all  of  his  friends  and  relations,  like 
one  big,  pleasant  family  together,  day  after  day,  as  we  have 
been  all  this  blessed  month  past.  Why,  oh  why,  must  she 
put  such  ideas  into  my  head?  Why  have  I  got  to  think  of 
the  future?  I  am  only  a  child,  only  a  little  schoolgirl ! " 

Very  glad  was  Faith  of  the  excuse  of  her  lame  ankle  to 
keep  in  her  room  through  the  day.  Pleading  a  headache, 
she  begged  the  baroness  to  leave  her  quietly  alone,  and  there 
she  surrendered  herself  to  tearful  reflections.  Alas!  This 
was  only  the  beginning.  From  henceforth  she  must  always 
be  finding  excuses  to  keep  her  away  from  all  that  had  made 
her  happy,  for  had  she  not  been  accused  of  undue  eagerness 
to  be  with  the  prince  and  his  circle,  making  herself  "the  talk 
of  the  town"?  Those  were  Genevieve's  words! 

As  in  a  dream,  the  innocent  joys  of  the  past  happy  weeks 
floated  before  her  mind.  Her  life  of  the  last  month  had 

55 


FAITH  BRANDON 

seemed  to  her  a  realization  of  all  she  had  heard  from  her 
aunts  of  the  refined  social  and  intellectual  pleasures  of  their 
long  sojourn  in  Europe.  She  had  accepted  it  all  naturally 
and  unquestioningly. 

As  the  guest  of  the  Stourdzas,  as  the  sister  of  the  rising 
young  English  diplomatist,  Milbanke,  as  the  granddaughter 
of  Minister  Ludlow,  still  held  in  honored  remembrance  by 
the  older  generation  of  statesmen,  Faith  had,  as  far  as  was 
appropriate  to  a  schoolgirl,  shared  in  the  social  life  of  the 
somewhat  exclusive  diplomatic  set,  and  their  friends  and 
acquaintance  among  the  Russian  aristocratic  and  literary 
circles  gathered  at  the  fashionable  Crimean  watering-place. 
Here  she  saw  distinguished  men  and  women,  and  listened 
to  the  clever  talk  of  personages  of  international  fame. 
It  was  in  such  circles  and  among  such  people  that  she  met 
daily  the  object  of  her  girlish  admiration, -her  kind  friend 
and  comrade,  the  "Courteous  Prince  Fair-Sun."  He  never 
sought  to  be  alone  with  her,  she  was  always  with  the  Stour- 
dzas, or  the  Alyonkins,  or  with  his  sister  and  her  children. 
But  it  often  happened  that,  when  they  were  a  little  apart 
from  the  others,  he  would  draw  her  out  to  talk  with  him  on 
subjects  in  which  they  had  a  common  interest,  on  the  books 
she  had  read,  the  people  and  places  she  had  seen,  the  Russian 
poetry  and  history  that  she  was  so  eager  to  learn  about,  the 
English  history  and  literature  she  doted  on  and  which  he 
was  so  amazingly  well-read  in,  the  public  affairs  of  Europe 
in  which  she  took  so  lively  and  intelligent  an  interest. 

And  whether  he  talked  to  her,  not  as  to  a  child,  but  as  a 
clever  man  talks  to  a  comprehending,  sympathizing  woman, 
or  whether  he  listened  to  her,  attentively,  kindly,  encour- 
agingly, there  was  always  in  his  eyes  a  look  of  quiet,  deep 
content,  as  if  he  felt  it  good  to  be  with  his  Little  Comrade. 

And  Faith  could  not  but  notice  this.  There  were  many 
clever,  entertaining  and  well-informed  women  among  his 
acquaintance  at  Yalta,  and  she  often  heard  them  in  conver- 

56 


THE  HEART  OF  A  SCHOOLGIRL 

sation  with  him  on  all  sorts  of  interesting  topics;  yet  this 
cultivated,  charming  man  sought  out,  not  these  older, 
cleverer  women,  but  herself,  the  little  schoolgirl  1  With  them 
he  was  merely  the  courteous,  agreeable  man  of  the  great  world. 
With  her  he  was  the  kind,  familiar  friend;  he  made  her  his 
little  comrade,  and  seemed  almost  as  happy  to  be  with  her 
as  she  was  to  be  with  him. 

Another  thing  she  had  observed,  a  strange  thing,  yet  it 
seemed  really  true,  that  her  smile  had  power  to  draw  him  to 
her  side.  She  had  sometimes  made  an  effort  to  be  very 
dignified  and  not  to  show  all  the  gladness  she  felt  in  meeting 
him,  but  to  look  away  instantly  after  returning  his  greeting. 
On  these  occasions,  and  these  only,  had  he  failed  to  come 
directly  to  her  side.  But  later,  when  her  eyes  would  seek 
his,  timidly  and  regretfully,  the  glance  that  met  hers  would 
be  alight  with  tender  inquiry;  and  as  soon  as  he  saw  the  shy, 
responsive  half-smile,  more  in  her  eyes  than  on  her  lips,  he 
was  instantly  beside  her.  Yet  other  women,  prettier  and 
more  distinguished  than  she,  smiled  at  him  also,  and  far 
more  openly  and  invitingly  than  she  would  dare  to  do, 
and  he  was  barely  civil  to  them. 

And  it  was  this  gentle,  elevating  friendship,  this  delight- 
ful, improving  intercourse,  that  Genevieve  wished  her  to 
renounce ! 

Amid  such  recollections  as  these  did  the  dreary  afternoon 
and  evening  and  the  watches  of  a  wakeful  night  pass  by. 
The  next  morning  brought  fresh  problems. 

Not  merely  daily  but  several  times  a  day  had  Faith  come 
in  contact  with  her  hero.  She  did  her  best  not  to  appear 
to  be  looking  for  him,  but  she  had  come  to  expect  that  he 
would  drop  in  on  them  every  morning,  to  bring  a  book,  or 
to  suggest  a  walk  on  the  hillside,  a  sail  on  the  bay,  or  an 
excursion  to  some  neighboring  object  of  interest.  But  now 
it  had  become  her  duty  to  avoid  these  meetings. 

Fate  seemed  ready  to  help  her.     She  had  breakfasted  in  her 

57 


FAITH  BRANDON 

room  when,  soon  after,  the  baroness  brought  a  message  from 
Solntsoff  to  say  that  he  was  leaving  by  the  mail-coach  to  spend 
the  day  with  a  friend  at  Simferopol.  So  a  little  before  noon 
Faith  ventured  down,  and  wishing  to  escape  the  gossip  of 
the  verandas,  walked  up  the  hill  path  to  the  little  summer- 
house.  There  she  seated  herself,  surrounded  by  the  friendly 
company  of  the  tall  pines  and  sturdy  cedars,  witnesses  of 
so  many  of  her  happy  hours.  Sighing  deeply,  she  drew 
forth  the  fateful  letter,  and  read  it  through  once  more.  The 
soft  ocean  breeze  stirred  the  tree-tops.  They  bent  pity- 
ingly toward  her,  and  gave  forth  a  tender,  plaintive  chant. 
With  half-blinded  eyes  and  quivering  lips  she  read  on  and 
on  to  the  final  words,  "After  he  leaves  Yalta  you  will  never 
see  him  again." 

Something  seemed  to  grip  at  Faith's  heart  with  a  sharp, 
painful  clutch,  and  burying  her  face  in  her  hands  she  burst 
into  a  storm  of  tears. 

"How  can  I  bear  it?"  sobbed  the  girl.  "How  can  I  bear 
to  be  separated  from  him,  not  to  see  him  again  for  a  long 
time,  perhaps  years,  perhaps  never?  Not  to  watch  out  for 
him  every  day,  not  to  see  the  pleasant  look  in  his  eyes,  not  to 
have  him  smile  at  me  any  more,  not  to  hear  his  voice,  not  to 
look  forward  to  talking  and  walking  with  him,  not  to  know  if 
I  am  ever  to  be  anything  to  him  again,  not  to  know  if  I  shall 
ever  see  him  again  in  all  this  wide  world?  Oh,  how  can  I 
bear  it?" 

There  was  a  long  pause.  The  breeze  had  died  down, 
the  trees  had  ceased  their  mournful  song,  the  silence  was 
almost  oppressive.  Across  the  still,  balmy  air  came  the  deep 
tones  of  the  cathedral  bells,  booming  out  the  hour  of  noon, 
inexorably,  fatefully.  Time  and  tide  wait  for  no  man's 
sighs  or  fears  or  passing  joys.  Life  goes  on  and  must  be 
lived.  Faith  gathered  up  her  papers  and  rose  wearily  to 
obey  its  summons. 

And  suddenly  bright   sunshine  flooded   the   dim  places 

58 


THE  HEART  OF  A  SCHOOLGIRL 

of  her  stricken  heart;  she  blinked  away  the  tears,  held 
her  head  erect  and  brave,  and,  summoning  all  her  dignity, 
tried  to  look  not  too  radiantly  happy.  For  there,  at  the 
entrance  to  the  little  summerhouse,  stood  her  "Big  Friend," 
her  "Prince  Fair-Sun!" 

"Will  you  not  tell  me  your  trouble?"  he  asked  kindly. 
"Let  us  sit  down  here  a  moment  on  this  bench  and  tal'i  it 
over." 

Faith  grew  dreadfully  embarrassed.  It  was  such  a  tempt- 
ing proposal,  and  it  seemed  like  such  a  lack  of  confidence  to 
refuse.  She  blushed  very  much  and  there  was  an  expression 
of  genuine  distress  in  the  luminous  hazel  eyes  that  looked 
up  into  his  friendly  blue  ones. 

"I  am  so  sorry,"  she  hesitated;  "I  am  afraid  I  ought  not 
to." 

"Oh,  it  will  be  quite  permissible,"  said  the  prince,  smil- 
ingly. "  Madame  Stourdza  gave  me  leave  to  come  in  search 
of  you  and  to  escort  you  home.  She  thinks  it  proper,  you 
see,  and  a  few  moments'  rest  on  the  way  is  not  stretch- 
ing the  point  too  far,"  and  he  drew  the  bench  forward 
and  held  out  his  hand  invitingly. 

"I  am  afraid  she  hasn't  the  authority,"  stammered  poor 
Faith,  only  too  ready  to  let  herself  be  tempted.  "My 
sister  writes  —  Oh,  please  don't  mind!  —  but  she  says  I  must 
never  go  alone  with  you  at  all,  and  I  should  be  stretching  my 
conscience  as  much  as  I  dare  in  just  walking  directly  home 
with  you." 

The  prince  had  never  seen  Faith's  sister,  but  he  was  seized 
with  the  conviction  that  she  must  be  an  extremely  disagreeable 
person. 

"You  see,"  Faith  added,  apologetically,  "if  she  were 
here  to  know  about  it  I  might  not  be  so  scrupulous  in 
obeying  her,  but  she  lays  down  the  rule  in  this  letter  and 
is  trusting  me  to  keep  it,  so  how  can  I  break  it  behind  her 
back?" 

59 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"I  understand,"  he  replied,  gravely,  watching  her  with 
keen,  intent  glance.  "It  is  not  so  much  a  question  of 
propriety  as  a  point  of  honor!  In  that  case,  I  will  not  urge 
you."  And  there  flashed  into  his  memory  the  words  of 
Holy  Scripture  in  praise  of  the  virtuous  woman,  "  The 
heart  of  her  husband  doth  safely  trust  in  her  1  " 

"You  know  I  would  like  to  stop  with  you  if  I  could?" 
she  asked,  almost  tearfully,  as  they  started  on  together. 

"Yes,  I  know  you  would  like  to,"  he  answered,  and  indeed 
he  would  have  been  blind  had  he  not  known  it.  "You  are 
sorry,  and  I,  too,  am  disappointed,  but  I  am  not  hurt  at 
all,  for  your  sister  is  quite  right  to  be  careful  of  you.  How- 
ever, I  shall  cause  you  no  more  scruples  to-day,  for  I  am 
going  away  to  meet  a  very  dear  friend  of  mine,  the  arch- 
priest  of  the  Yurieff  Lavra,*  to  consult  him  on  some  im- 
portant matters,  and  to  make  my  confession  to  him.  I  do 
not  return  before  to-morrow  evening. " 

"Confession?"  echoed  Faith,  startled  and  wondering. 

"Don't  be  alarmed!"  he  said,  laughingly.  "There  is  no 
very  heavy  crime  on  my  conscience!  But  if  one  wishes 
to  keep  clean  it  is  good  to  take  a  spiritual  scrubbing 
from  time  to  time,  without  waiting  to  do  so  till  one's  soul  is 
already  soiled  with  sin. " 

Faith  felt  queer.  Although  the  men  of  her  family  went 
to  church,  and  she  had  an  uncle  who  was  a  bishop,  she  was 
not  at  all  accustomed  to  hearing  gentlemen  in  polite  society 
talk  about  sin.  Usually,  if  one  acknowledged  having  a 
soul  at  all,  the  fact  of  its  existence  was  kept  discreetly  in  the 
background. 

"Of  course,  I  have  never  been  to  confession  myself," 
she  said,  hesitatingly.  "I  have  been  brought  up  rather  a 
Low-Church  Episcopalian  by  my  aunts,  and  my  father  is  a 
Unitarian.  But  my  uncle  is  a  bishop  and  is  very  High- 
Church,  though  I  don't  think  he  goes  quite  so  far  as  con- 

*  Monastery  of  St.  George. 

60 


THE  HEART  OF  A  SCHOOLGIRL 

f ession.  My  brother,  however,  is  a  Ritualist,  —  he  has  taken 
me  sometimes  to  the  Ritualist  churches  in  England,  and  you 
know  they  are  reviving  the  practice  of  confession  and  call 
themselves  'Catholics.'" 

She  looked  up  at  him  inquiringly  and  timidly. 

"Do  you  think  we  have  Apostolic  Orders?"  she  asked, 
with  anxiety. 

"Vyerochka,  little  dove!"  he  exclaimed,  bending  com- 
passionately toward  her.  "I  am  sorry  to  hurt  you,  but,  if 
you  ask  me  a  question,  I  must  suppose  you  want  a  true 
answer.  Unfortunately,  the  opinion  of  the  Russian  Holy 
Synod  and  of  the  Orthodox  synods  in  general  is  that  the 
Anglican  ordinations  have  been  null  and  void  for  over  three 
centuries." 

"I  was  afraid  so,"  sighed  Faith,  and  the  tears  rolled  over. 
"  The  Catholic  Church  denies  them,  too,  and  the  Protestants 
think  them  an  absurd  pretension!  Oh,  dear!  I  love  my 
church,  I  want  to  be  loyal  to  it,  but  I  get  puzzled  sometimes. 
I  wish  we  were  all  alike,  all  one  church  together  and  no 
differences  between  us." 

"Many  older  and  wiser  than  you  wish  the  same  thing," 
he  said,  gently.  "  Don't  cry,  Vyera,  dear!  You  have  thought 
more  and  you  feel  more  deeply  about  these  points  than 
most  young  girls."  And  indeed  it  seemed  to  him  that  very 
few  sixteen-year-old  school-maidens  would  be  shedding  tears 
over  the  schisms  of  the  Christian  world. 

"Have  you  ever  seen  a  service  in  one  of  our  Orthodox 
Russian  churches?  "  he  asked,  after  a  moment. 

"Yes,  three  or  four  times,"  she  answered,  eagerly.  "Of 
course  I  did  not  understand  what  was  going  on,  and  there 
was  no  one  to  explain  it  to  me.  But  I  had  heard,"  very 
reverently,  "that  you  believed  in  the  Real  Presence,  and 
I  had  never  before  seen  such  worship,  such  adoring  faith! 
It  seemed  like  the  completion  and  fulfilment  of  the  old  Jewish 
worship  of  the  Bible,  only  more  beautiful,  because  it  was  not 

61 


FAITH  BRANDON 

merely  symbolic  and  figurative,  but  the  actual  worship  of 
the  real  Emmanuel,  the  Christian  Saviour.  It  was  as  like 
as  anything  earthly  could  be  to  the  vision  in  the  Apocalypse 
of  the  Adoration  of  God  and  the  Lamb  in  the  Heavenly 
Jerusalem."  Her  young  face  was  flushed  with  enthusiasm, 
and  her  beautiful  eyes,  swimming  with  unshed  tears,  gazed 
before  her  as  at  some  distant  scene  of  glory.  Her  sweet 
voice  was  tremulous  with  emotion. 

The  prince  was  silent,  though  watching  her  intently. 

She  came  back  to  earth  with  a  long  sigh.  "You  are  so 
secure  in  your  position! "  she  said,  enviously.  "The  Eastern 
Church  has  always  had  these  things  unchanged  since  the 
earliest  Councils  of  the  Christian  era.  With  us  Episco- 
palians it  is  so  different!  Everything  has  been  more  or 
less  changed  till  we  hardly  know  where  we  stand,  and  yet 
it  is  the  one  important  thing  to  know." 

"Do  not  let  doubts  about  what  you  have  not,  shake  your 
faith  in  what  you  actually  have,"  he  advised.  "You  have 
received  baptism,  you  have  Christ's  holy  gospels,  you  have 
fragments  of  the  old  liturgies.  Though  your  Reformers 
rejected  much  that  we  believe  essential  and  holy,  yet  they 
retained  much  that  is  true  and  helpful.  Cling  to  these 
things,  observe  and  pray,  and  God  will  make  all  plain  to  you, 
never  fear !  You  have  not  your  beautiful  name  for  nothing." 

Faith  felt  wondrously  comforted.  How  truly  he  was  the 
friend  of  the  soul,  and  how  near  this  talk  seemed  to  bring 
her  spirit  to  his!  It  had  at  once  put  their  friendship  on  a 
higher  plane  than  mere  human  sentiment,  however  sweet 
and  absorbing.  For  they  two  had  Christian  souls  as  well 
as  human  hearts,  they  had  God  to  love  and  live  for  as  well 
as  each  other.  Whatever  might  be  the  outcome  of  their 
summer's  companionship,  she  felt  content  to  await  the  issue 
patiently.  She  could  never  again  be  so  rebellious  and  de- 
spairing since  his  faith  had  enkindled  hers. 

In  the  prince's  absence,  Faith  felt  that  she  had  best  go 

62 


THE  HEART  OF  A  SCHOOLGIRL 

about  with  his  family  and  friends  in  the  usual  way,  that 
they  might  see  she  had  not  heretofore  gone  with  them 
merely  on  his  account.  When  he  returned,  it  would  be 
soon  enough  to  break  off  from  these  all  too  pleasant  habits. 

The  next  morning  Countess  Chernyatina  invited  her  to 
drive.  Faith  went  in  some  trepidation,  for  she  stood  a 
little  in  awe  of  her  Big  Friend's  sister,  —  a  gracious  and 
charming  woman  in  general,  but,  it  must  be  confessed, 
somewhat  reserved  toward  her  brother's  Little  Comrade. 

"What  has  that  mature,  scholarly  man,  with  his  ardent 
patriotism  and  his  deep  religious  faith,  in  common  with  a 
little  unformed  schoolgirl,  not  of  his  race  or  rank  or  religion? 
What  good  can  come  of  it  all?  "  So  thought  the  sister.  But 
the  prince  had  asked  her  to  show  some  attention  to  the 
young  foreigner  in  his  absence  and  she  was  too  wise  to  try 
to  thwart  his  inclinations.  She  was  very  kind  to  Faith 
during  the  drive.  After  all,  the  child  was  very  intelligent 
and  lovable,  with  a  pretty,  maidenly  dignity  of  manner. 
If  Lyova  was  serious  in  his  intentions,  they  could  only  hope 
for  the  best. 

That  afternoon,  seeing  old  Prince  Kliazemski  established 
in  his  wheel  chair  on  the  veranda  of  his  dacha,  and  knowing 
that  his  nephew  was  not  expected  till  late  that  evening, 
Faith  stole  across  the  garden  and  came  up  to  him  shyly. 
The  hospitable  old  gentleman  welcomed  her  cordially,  his 
faded  but  kindly  blue  eyes  lighted  up,  he  declared  himself 
dying  for  a  talk  and  made  her  sit  by  him  and  have  tea  with 
him. 

And  a  delightful  talk  it  proved,  —  one  after  Faith's  own 
heart.  He  told  his  eager  young  listener  of  the  stirring  days 
of  his  youth,  of  the  Crimean  War,  of  the  storming  of  Kars 
in  which  he  had  taken  part.  He  told  her  of  the  liberation 
of  the  serfs,  of  the  patriarchal  life  of  the  old  princely  families 
upon  their  great  estates,  before  the  altered  conditions  of 
land  and  labor  had  brought  so  many  to  ruin.  He  told  her 

63 


FAITH  BRANDON 

of  the  Turkish  War,  of  how  the  armies  of  Holy  Russia  had 
stood  at  the  very  gates  of  Constantinople,  till  the  jealousy 
of  Christian  Europe  had  forced  her  to  yield  the  fruit  of  her 
victories  and  leave  the  Turk  his  foothold  on  the  Christian 
continent. 

Here  they  were  interrupted  by  a  lackey  from  the  hotel, 
who  crossed  over  to  notify  Faith  that  two  ladies  were  wait' 
ing  for  her  in  the  parlor.  Greatly  wondering  who  they 
might  be  she  took  leave  of  her  kind  friend  and,  entering 
the  reception  room,  found  to  her  amazement  her  two 
sisters — Genevieve,  delicate,  flaxen-haired,  Madonna-faced, 
and  Sophy,  sensible,  kindly,  and  unpretentious. 

"We  decided  to  follow  my  letter,"  drawled  Genevieve. 
"You  have  been  a  burden  to  Madame  Stourdza  long  enough. 
Unfortunately  our  passage  is  not  engaged  for  Athens  till 
next  week  and  we  have  had  to  take  rooms  for  a  few  days  at 
the  Pension  Seiler  here,  but  you  can  go  right  to  your  room 
now  and  throw  your  things  into  your  boxes  and  have  them 
brought  over  before  dinner." 

Faith  was  distressed.  The  idea  of  leaving  this  delight- 
ful hotel  and  all  her  new  friends  to  go  with  her  sisters  to 
the  Pension  Seiler,  with  its  crowd  of  middle-class  German 
and  English  tourists,  was  anything  but  an  an  enticing 
prospect. 

"It  hardly  seems  worth  while  to  move  for  such  a  short 
while,"  she  suggested,  but  Genevieve  gave  her  a  withering 
look. 

"I  have  settled  everything  with  the  Stourdzas,"  she  said. 
"If  I  had  wished  for  your  opinion  I  would  have  waited  to 
consult  with  you.  It  is  high  time  you  left  those  people. 
The  baroness  is  a  perfectly  impracticable,  irresponsible 
woman,  and  the  baron  is  a  very  dissipated-looking  man. 
I  did  not  like  at  all  his  familiar  way  of  talking  about  you. 
Not  a  word,  Miss!  Don't  begin  by  flying  into  one  of  your 
tempers!  This  sort  of  life  is  utterly  demoralizing  for  a  girl 

64 


THE  HEART  OF  A  SCHOOLGIRL 

of  your  age.  I  don't  know  what  your  brother  can  be  think- 
ing about  to  encourage  it.  '* 

"I  will  go  up  with  you  and  help  you  pack,"  interrupted 
Sophy,  nervously  afraid  that  Genevieve  was  going  too  far. 

"No!"  commanded  Genevieve.  "The  child  must  learn 
to  be  self-reliant  and  look  after  her  own  things.  Faith,  go 
upstairs  at  once  and  attend  to  the  packing  and  moving  of 
your  boxes!." 

With  a  heavy  heart  Faith  obeyed.  She  found  the  bar- 
oness already  in  her  room,  laying  the  dresses  in  the  trays 
and  stopping  from  time  to  time  to  mop  her  eyes.  The  baron 
was  raging  up  and  down  the  little  sitting-room,  biting  ner- 
vously at  an  unlighted  cigar.  When  Faith  appeared  he 
darted  to  where  the  trunk  stood,  slammed  down  the  cover 
and  sat  upon  it. 

"Let  them  come  and  get  you,  if  they  can!"  he  said.  "I 
am  here,  and  here  I  stay!  Cinderella  shall  not  go  back  to 
drudgery!" 

"Ahem!  Who  is  it  maintains  that  woman  should  be 
docile  and  obedient  in  her  family  life?"  suggested  his  wife. 

"Certainly,  to  her  husband  or  her  parents!"  retorted  the 
baron.  "I  would  not  stand  between  Fides  and  her  husband, 
or  her  father,  or  even  her  brother.  But  stepsisters  have 
been  a  curse  from  time  immemorial,  as  all  literature  attests, 
and  no  young  girl  should  be  made  the  slave  of  their  will. 
It  was  Milbanke  who  entrusted  Fides  to  our  care,  and  to  him 
only  shall  we  surrender  her. " 

"It  is  of  no  use  to  resist,  dear  Baron,"  said  Faith,  dole- 
fully. "It  has  got  to  be!  Genevieve  always  has  her  way, 
and  the  longer  you  delay  me  the  worse  it  will  be  for  me  in 
the  end.  If  you  could  take  the  consequences  yourself,"  she 
added,  laughingly,  "I  shouldn't  mind,  but  unfortunately 
it  is  I  who  will  have  to  suffer  for  your  revolt." 

He  sprang  up  at  once  and  resigned  the  trunk  to  the  two 
women,  although  grumbling  heartily  the  while.  But  his 

6S 


FAITH  BRANDON 

rebellion  and  discontent  showed  itself  in  his  restless  pacing 
of  the  little  sitting-room  floor  and  his  frequent  visits  to  the 
scene  of  the  packers'  activities. 

"Kirill,  you  drive  me  distracted!"  exclaimed  his  wife. 
"Can't  you  find  something  to  occupy  yourself  with?  We 
shall  never  have  done  at  this  rate.  Go  and  play  billiards 
with  Alyonkin,  or  flirt  with  that  pretty  Polish  widow, 
anything,  only  leave  us  in  peace!" 

"  Not  a  bad  idea ! "  exclairr ed  the  husband.  Straightening 
his  tie,  twirling  his  moustaches,  and  glancing  into  the  mirror 
with  a  well-satisfied  smile,  he  sauntered  downstairs  in  search 
of  congenial  occupation. 

An  hour  later,  when  he  returned  to  the  rooms,  he  found 
Faith  and  her  boxes  gone  and  his  wife  looking  rather 
forlorn. 

"I  feel  as  if  she  had  always  been  with  us,"  she  sighed. 
"How  did  we  use  to  live  before  she  came?" 

Involuntarily  the  minds  of  both  turned  to  the  thought  of 
the  little  girl  they  had  lost  nine  years  before.  They  never 
mentioned  her  to  each  other,  for  each  suffered  from  the 
pangs  of  self-reproach;  she,  because  her  love  of  balls  and  gay 
society  had  led  her  to  neglect  the  child  during  the  four 
short  years  of  its  life;  he,  because  his  neglect  of  his  wife  had 
perhaps  been  the  cause  of  her  seeking  distraction  in  worldly 
amusement.  The  loss  had  brought  both  to  their  senses  — 
their  outward  lives  had,  in  a  measure,  changed,  but  a  certain 
bitterness  of  spirit  often  marred  their  relations  to  each 
other.  Since  Faith  had  been  with  them  things  had  begun  to 
go  more  smoothly. 

"She  is  so  easy  to  get  on  with,"  said  the  baroness,  with 
another  sigh,  "so  responsive  and  pleasant  and  compan- 
ionable!" 

"Adelaide  would  have  had  the  same  disposition,"  said  he, 
looking  down  gloomily. 

His  wife  glanced  up  quickly.    It  was  the  first  time  he 


THE  HEART  OF  A  SCHOOLGIRL 

had  mentioned  the  child's  name  in  many  years,  and  his 
sombre,  dark  eyes  were  filled  with  unaccustomed  tears. 
She  sprang  up  and  went  to  him  impetuously. 

"Kirill!"  she  cried,  throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck, 
"I  am  not  half  kind  enough  to  you!" 

"Ada,"  he  replied,  clasping  her  to  his  breast,  "you  have 
had  a  great  deal  to  bear  from  me!" 


67 


CHAPTER  VI 

ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE 

"On  heaven  high  two  suns  never  burn, 
Two  moons  never  shine  in  the  stilly  night, 
Never  has  dove  more  than  one  fond  mate; 
An  honest  lad  hath  not  two  beloved  friends." 
—  Russian  Folk-song. 

IN  THE  shady  garden  of  the  episcopal  palace  at  Simferopol, 
overlooking  the  picturesque  banks  of  the  Salghir  River,  two 
men  sat  enjoying  the  delicious  freshness  of  the  morning 
air,  and  conversed  earnestly  together.  One  was  elderly, 
thin  and  ascetic  looking,  with  intellectual  brow,  mild  eyes 
and  a  singularly  fine  mouth,  whose  lines  expressed  mingled 
sweetness  and  strength.  He  wore  the  costume  of  the  "black," 
or  celibate,  monastic  clergy  of  the  Orthodox  Church.  His 
companion,  tall,  blue-eyed  and  large  of  limb,  was  a  layman 
in  civilian  dress  of  gray  tweeds.  He  held  his  straw  hat  in  his 
hand  and  the  gentle  summer  breeze  toyed  with  his  short, 
fair,  waving  hair. 

"You  think,  then,  Vladiko,*  that  I  am  justified  in  speak- 
ing to  her  of  the  future,  in  spite  of  her  extreme  youth?  You 
do  not  believe  it  necessary  or  advisable  to  put  her  childish 
feeling  for  me  to  the  test  of  silence  and  separation?  " 

The  monk  smiled  gently.     "Dear  son!"  he  said,  "troubles 

enough  are  sure  to  arise  in  the  ordinary  course  of  life  to  test 

her  constancy  without  the  necessity  of  inventing  further 

tests  of  your  own.    No!    If  it  is  your  great  blessing  to  have 

met  a  good  and  innocent  girl,  gifted  with  unusual  intelligence 

and  rare  qualities  of  mind  and  heart,  such  as  you  describe 

"  My  Lord,"  title  of  the  higher  clergy,  the  equivalent  of  Monsignore. 

68 


ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE 

her  to  me;  and  you  believe  that  it  has  been  your  good  fortune 
to  attract  her  childish  confidence  and  affection,  then  cherish 
this  affection  tenderly  and  jealously,  as  a  precious  flower  of 
heaven.  Do  all  in  your  power  to  nurture  and  strengthen 
it  till  it  grows  to  the  full  blossoming  of  womanly  love.  Such 
a  heart  as  hers  is  '  above  rubies,'  and  you  will  win  and  guard 
this  treasure  at  every  cost. " 

The  younger  man's  eyes  flashed  and  he  drew  a  long  breath 
of  relief.  "I  am  glad,  Vladiko,  that  you  encourage  me  to 
follow  the  first  impulse  of  my  man's  heart.  I  wish  to  tell 
her  of  my  affection,  I  wish  her  to  grow  up  knowing  it,  be- 
lieving in  it,  and  preparing  herself  for  a  future  by  my  side. 
I  only  feared  it  might  not  be  the  path  of  justice  to  bind  her  at 
so  early  an  age  and  before  I  have  time  to  obtain  the  consent 
of  her  family." 

"You  will  not  bind  her  to  anything!  There  must  be  no 
promise.  You  will  impress  upon  her  that  she  is  absolutely 
free.  Indeed,  if  you  had  opportunities  to  see  her  frequently, 
and  to  make  it  plain  to  her  by  your  attentions  and  the 
happiness  you  take  in  her  society  that  she  is  dear  to  you, 
then  you  might  safely  put  off  speaking  openly  to  her  of  your 
desires  until  she  is  a  little  older.  But  there  will  of  neces- 
sity be  long  periods  of  separation,  during  which  she  should 
not  remain  in  ignorance  of  your  feeling  for  her.  Her 
constancy  may  not  survive  the  years  of  waiting,  her  affec- 
tion may  fail  you,  she  may  give  her  heart  to  another,  but 
it  will  not  be  —  unknowingly.  At  least  she  will  have  had 
the  choice.  She  can  never  make  you  the  reproach  that  is 
too  frequently  the  bitterest  portion  in  human  heart-sorrow, 
the  source  of  so  many  miserable  mistakes,  — '  Had  I  but 
known!'  You  will  tell  her,  then,  the  wish  of  your  manly 
heart,  asking  no  response,  no  word  of  promise,  only  laying 
the  question  before  her  that  she  may  ponder  over  it  and  all 
that  it  involves.  Remember  that  she  is  a  mere  child  and 
restrain  your  emotions,  lest  you  frighten  away  the  precious 

69 


FAITH  BRANDON 

affection  of  the  childish  heart  before  the  heart  of  the 
woman  is  capable  of  responding.  But  she  must  listen  to 
you,  she  must  feel  that  a  man's  future  life  is  in  her  hands. 
There  is  much,  very  much  in  this  to  make  her  thoughtful. " 

"Much,  indeed!"  interrupted  the  young  man,  gravely. 
"So  much  that  at  times  it  seems  to  me  almost  impossible 
that  it  should  come  about.  The  difference  in  our  ages,  in 
our  race  and  traditions,  above  all  in  our  religion!  That  is 
the  supreme  test,  Otets."* 

"You  tell  me  that  she  shows  unusual  interest  and  thought 
in  questions  of  controversy,  and  that  she  seems  to  be  drawn 
toward  our  Orthodox  f  worship.  She  must  not  be  hurried, " 
advised  the  father,  "  nor  must  she  feel  bound,  as  if  the  mar- 
riage depended  upon  her  conversion.  Let  her  love  for  you 
and  her  love  for  your  faith  grow  with  her  growth.  With 
the  certainty  of  your  affection,  and  with  the  knowledge  she 
will  gradually  acquire  of  the  Church's  doctrines,  she  will 
develop  slowly  and  beautifully  toward  the  Heavenly  Faith, 
and  will  keep  with  you  her  earthly  faith." 

The  young  man's  head  was  reverently  bowed,  his  keen 
blue  eyes  were  softened  and  veiled.  He  knelt  on  the  green 
sward  at  the  feet  of  his  spiritual  father  who,  signing  him 
three  times  with  the  sign  of  the  cross,  blessed  him  fervently, 
then  raising  him,  took  him  into  his  arms,  embraced  him 
tenderly  and  bade  him  God-speed. 

Standing  at  the  gate  he  gazed  long  and  affectionately  at 
the  tall  form,  stepping  lightly  and  rapidly  to  meet  the  in- 
coming train. 

"If  Russia  had  more  laymen  like  this  young  prince," 
he  thought,  "fearing  God  and  keeping  His  commandments, 
loving  the  Church,  and  serving  his  country,  his  emperor  and 
his  fellow-man  with  all  his  heart  and  at  every  sacrifice,  how 
few  and  simple  its  problems  would  be!" 

*  Pronounced  Aht-yetz  —  Father. 

iPravo-slamy  i.  e.,  "right-worshipping."  Pravo-sldmaya  Tser- 
ktv,  the  Right- Worshipping,  or  Orthodox  Church. 

70 


ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE 

Solntsoff  returned  from  his  trip  about  nine  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  tired  and  hungry,  to  find  dinner  over,  his  uncle  and 
sister,  with  Count  and  Countess  Alyonkin  at  the  tea  table 
in  the  sitting-room.  He  glanced  at  the  tea,  caviar  sand- 
wiches and  sweetmeats,  and  they  did  not  look  satisfactory 
to  a  stalwart  man  who  had  not  dined  and  had  been  traveling 
half  the  day.  Yet,  if  he  walked  into  town  to  dine  at  one  of 
the  restaurants,  it  might  bring  him  back  too  late  to  see  his 
Little  Comrade  that  evening.  He  was  torn  in  spirit  be- 
tween the  hunger  of  the  body  and  the  hunger  of  the  heart. 

Just  then  Aleksey  Pavlovich  came  timidly  into  the  room. 
His  mother  looked  up  reprovingly,  for  he  had  been  sent  to 
bed  half  an  hour  previously. 

"Please,  mamma!"  he  begged,  "I  have  something  I  must 
tell  uncle  and  I  cannot  sleep  till  I  do.  I  have  been  waiting 
up  for  him. " 

His  uncle  lifted  the  little  boy  kindly  on  his  knee  and  pushed 
the  tangled  brown  curls  back  from  the  pure  childish  brow. 

"What  is  it  troubles  you,  Alyosha?"  he  asked. 

"Uncle!  I  —  I  made  Vyera  Karlovna  cry!  She  cried 
hard!" 

The  uncle  looked  very  grave.  "What  did  you  do  to  make 
her  cry?" 

"I  did  nothing  to  make  her  cry!  I  love  her  too  much  for 
that,"  said  Alyosha,  fixing  his  big,  anxious  eyes  on  his 
uncle's  face.  "But  I  said  something  to  the  ladies  that  made 
them  laugh,  and  afterward  she  cried  and  said  she  cried 
because  they  laughed. " 

"That  is  why  I  dislike  to  have  the  child  go  so  much  among 
the  foreigners,"  said  his  mother,  irritably.  "They  are 
always  trying  to  make  him  talk,  and  they  laugh  at  every 
foolish  thing  he  says  and  encourage  him  to  be  silly  and 
self-conscious." 

"Let  us  hear  the  whole  story,"  said  Solntsoff,  decidedly. 
"Aly6sha,  tell  me  exactly  how  it  all  happened." 


FAITH  BRANDON 

•<  *w- 

"Well,  Vye"ra's  sisters  have  come,  and  they  were  sitting 
with  some  ladies  on  the  veranda,  and  the  ladies  asked  me 
how  many  uncles  I  had.  I  said  two,  you  and  my  grandfather. 
First  they  laughed  at  that;  and  then  another  lady  asked  how 
many  aunts  I  had.  So  I  said  that  I  had  none,  but  that  I 
used  to  think  I  had  an  aunt  because  there  was  a  lady  lived 
with  you  in  your  apartment  in  Peterburg  *  whom  you  were 
very  fond  of,  and  I  thought  that  if  she  was  my  uncle's  wife 
she  must  be  my  aunt;  but  mother  would  not  let  me  call  her 
'aunt,'  because  she  was  not  married  to  you  but  was  just  your 
friend." 

Natalia  Petrovna  bit  her  lip.  A  dull-red  flush  slowly 
overspread  Solntsoff's  countenance. 

"Then  they  began  to  nudge  each  other  and  laugh,  and  I 
laughed,  too,  though  I  could  not  see  why  it  was  funny," 
went  on  the  child. 

"It  was  not  funny,"  said  the  mother,  angrily.  "It  was 
stupid!" 

But  the  uncle  said  never  a  word,  and  looked  so  stern  and 
so  red  that  poor  little  Alexis  was  frightened  and  his 
lips  began  to  tremble.  Just  then  he  heard  a  queer  sound 
from  his  grandfather,  whose  shoulders  were  shaking  in  a 
strange  way.  Then  there  was  a  sudden  loud  guffaw  from 
Graf  Alyonkin.  Aleksey  Pavlovich  was  relieved.  It  must 
be  funny  after  all! 

"They  asked  me  if  she  was  your  housekeeper, "  he  went  on, 
encouraged,  "but  I  said  she  was  too  well-dressed  for  that." 

A  fresh  guffaw  from  Alyonkin !  The  old  prince's  shoulders 
were  shaking  worse  than  ever  and  he  was  chuckling  audibly. 
Alyosha  was  elated  with  his  success. 

"Then  they  asked  me  if  she  was  old  or  young,"  he  con- 
tinued, tossing  his  curly  head,  "and  I  said  she  was  not 
young." 

"Well,  thank  God  for  that!"  muttered  his  uncle. 
*  Russian  name  for  Saint  Petersburg.  The  common  people  call  it  "Piter." 

72 


ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE 

"I  said,"  deliberated  Alyosha,  whose  ideas  of  age  were 
vague  and  who  did  not  wish  to  go  to  extremes,  "I  said  she 
wasn't  young  like  Vyera  Karlovna,  that  she  was  really 
going  on  thirty,  though  you  wouldn't  think  it  to  look  at  her." 

"Good  heavens!"  gasped  his  uncle. 

"Oh,  Aleksey!"  sighed  his  mother. 

"Found  out!"  cried  Alyonkin,  throwing  himself  back  in 
his  chair  and  shouting  with  laughter.  "Oh,  Levochka,* 
you  sad  dog!  Here  you  have  been  posing  before  these 
innocent  damsels  and  correct  matrons  as  a  knight  without 
reproach,  a  model  young  man,  a  regular  Galahad;  but  your 
sins  have  found  you  out  at  last!  Unmasked!  Discovered! 
'Out  of  the  mouths  of  babes'!"  and  he  shouted  afresh  in  a 
very  ecstasy  of  mirth. 

The  old  prince  was  chuckling  quietly  to  himself,  when  he 
glanced  furtively  at  his  nephew  and  his  amusement  ceased. 
He  became  grave. 

"Alyosha,"  said  Solntsoff,  kindly  but  very  earnestly, 
"try  to  tell  me  all.  When  did  Vyera  Karlovna  cry?" 

"Not  then,"  answered  Alyosha,  beginning  anew  to  have 
doubts.  "She  led  me  away,  saying  she  did  not  think  it  was 
nice  to  question  a  child,  and  she  started  to  bring  me  home. 
But  as  soon  as  we  were  out  of  sight  of  the  Pension  she 
sat  down  on  the  ground  and  just  cried,  and  cried,  and 
cried!" 

He  saw  that  his  uncle's  face  was  very  white  now,  and  that 
even  Grigori  Sergevich  had  sobered  down.  His  misgivings 
increased. 

"I  tried  to  comfort  her, "  he  explained,  apologetically,  "but 
I  could  not.  Then  I  was  frightened  and  began  to  cry,  too, 
and  she  put  her  arms  round  me  and  said  I  must  not  mind. 
It  was  not  my  fault  that  she  was  crying,  but  only  because  the 
ladies  had  laughed  and  been  unkind.  And  she  said  I  ought 
to  tell  you  about  it,  so  I  promised  I  would.  But  you  have 

*  Familiar  diminutive  of  Lev. 

73 


FAITH  BRANDON 

been  away  and  I  was  very  unhappy,  for  I  was  afraid  to  go  to 
bed  till  I  had  told." 

"When  did  all  this  happen?"  asked  the  stern  uncle. 

"This  afternoon,  after  luncheon."  Alyosha  looked  up 
piteously.  His  lip  quivered.  "Forgive  me,  Dyddushka, 
dear  uncle!" 

The  prince  took  the  little  boy  up  in  his  arms  very  tenderly. 
"I  am  glad  you  have  told  me,  very  glad  you  kept  your 
promise  like  a  gentleman.  It  is  just  as  Vyera  Karlovna  ex- 
plained, —  you  did  not  say  anything  that  would  have  made 
her  cry  had  not  the  ladies  been  unkind.  There  is  nothing 
to  forgive,  little  heart's-brother!" 

He  carried  the  child  on  his  shoulder  to  the  nursery,  kissed 
him  an  affectionate  good  night,  blessed  him,  and  left  him 
in  the  governess's  care.  Then  he  re-entered  the  drawing 
room. 

"  So  the  stepsisters  have  returned?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,  they  appeared  this  morning  and  they  have  taken 
rooms  at  the  Pension  Seiler,  the  other  side  of  the  hotel 
grounds.  Vyera  has  left  the  Stourdzas  and  is  with  them 
there.  Take  some  tea,  Lyova,  it  will  do  you  good  after 
your  fatigue  and  this  annoyance,"  urged  his  sister. 

Somehow  he  had  lost  his  appetite.  "No,  I  could  not 
swallow  it,"  he  said.  "I  must  go  and  find  her. " 

"What  explanation  can  you  give  to  a  child  like  that?" 
she  asked. 

He  did  not  answer.     He  only  shook  his  head  and  passed  out. 

"He  is  pretty  hard  hit,"  said  Alyonkin,  soberly. 

Natalia  Petrovna  sighed,  "I  suppose  I  might  as  well 
reconcile  myself  to  it  and  take  the  child  to  my  heart!"  she 
said,  resignedly. 

Lyeff  Petrovich  crossed  the  garden  and  the  road,  and 
walked  through  the  straight,  tree-lined  approach  to  the 
Pension  Seiler.  He  rang  the  bell  twice  before  it  was  answered 
by  a  maid. 

-74 


ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE 

"Announce  me  to  the  Misses  Brandon  and  Miss  Faith 
Brandon,"  he  said. 

He  could  hear  the  chatter  of  feminine  voices  in  the  salon. 

"Will  not  Your  Splendor  come  in?"  asked  the  maid. 

"No,  I  will  stop  outside  till  you  have  taken  in  my  cards." 

In  a  few  moments  the  salon  door  opened  and  a  delicate 
featured,  flaxen-haired,  Madonna-like  personage  advanced 
into  the  hall.  Solntsoff  stood  near  the  entrance,  hat  in 
hand,  bowing  low. 

She  bowed  somewhat  stiffly  in  return,  but  did  not  ask 
him  in. 

"I  am  Genevieve  Brandon,"  she  explained.  "My  sister 
Faith  has  already  retired,  Prince  Solntsoff.  She  has  a 
severe  headache  and  went  to  her  room  immediately  after 
dinner. " 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  hear  it,"  he  replied,  with  concern. 
"  I  particularly  regret  not  seeing  her,  as  my  little  nephew  tells 
me  that  he  had  the  misfortune  to  make  her  cry  this  after- 
noon. May  I  explain  to  her  through  you  that  " 

"My  sister  is  a  mere  child,"  interrupted  Genevieve, 
severely.  "Those  are  things  that  cannot  be  explained  to 
her." 

"But,  surely,"  he  objected,  "if  she  understands  enough 
to  be  distressed  there  can  be  no  harm  in  your  explaining  to 
her  that  there  is  no  cause  for  such  distress. " 

"It  may  be  easy  for  a  man  of  the  world  like  you,  Prince 
Solntsoff,  to  make  a  sort  of  explanation  that  would  satisfy 
a  young  and  unsophisticated  schoolgirl  like  my  sister  Faith," 
said  Miss  Brandon,  with  an  icy  stare.  "It  would  be  more 
difficult  to  make  an  explanation  that  would  satisfy  me,  who 
take  the  place  of  a  mother  to  her. " 

"At  least  I  may  ask  that  you,  in  justice,  listen  to  me?" 

"I  do  not  see  why  I  should  do  so!  You  will,  of  course, 
justify  yourself,  but  that  proves  nothing!  Faith  has  not  her 
father  or  her  brother  here  to  protect  her.  I  must  take  it 

75 


FAITH  BRANDON 

upon  myself  to  say  that,  under  the  circumstances,  I  do  not 
think  it  desirable  that  you  should  be  given  any  further 
opportunity  to  speak  with  her. " 

Solntsoff  met  her  eye  steadily.  "As  you  please,"  he  re- 
plied, and,  bowing,  turned  and  left  her. 

He  strode  out  through  the  shady  approach  into  the  road. 
His  blood  was  boiling.  Hot,  angry  words  rushed  to  his 
throat;  he  stuttered  in  his  wrath  that  he  could  cut  that 
cold-blooded,  lying  woman's  throat;  he  condemned  her  in 
his  ire  to  the  nethermost  inferno.  He  did  not  for  an  instant 
believe  that  Faith  had  gone  to  her  room  voluntarily.  His 
Little  Comrade  had  sent  him  a  message  through  Alyosha, 
she  would  be  expecting  his  answer  and  would  wait  up  for  him 
all  night,  if  she  were  free  to  do  so.  That  odious  woman 
was  keeping  them  apart! 

He  strode  up  the  mountain  road,  higher  and  higher,  a 
tempest  raging  in  his  soul.  He  would  snatch  the  child  away 
from  them  at  any  cost!  He  was  halfway  up  the  steep  hill- 
side before  he  had  pulled  himself  under  control.  Then  he 
turned  slowly  and  sullenly,  and  walked  back  to  the  dacha. 

By  the  time  he  entered  the  drawing-room  his  calm  was 
restored.  He  looked  pale  and  tired  and  his  smile  was  forced; 
but  he  sat  down  to  his  customary  game  of  chess  with  his 
uncle,  was  decently  polite  to  the  half  score  guests  who  dropped 
in,  and  after  he  went  to  his  room  wrote  his  usual  number  of 
sheets  of  manuscript. 

"I  hope  it  makes  sense,"  he  sighed,  as  he  wearily  pushed 
the  papers  away  and  prepared  for  bed.  "  God  bless  and 
comfort  you,  and  make  you  to  have  faith  in  me,  Little 
Comrade!" 

It  was  well  toward  morning  before  he  found  oblivion  in 
sleep.  When  he  awoke  it  was  far  beyond  his  usual  rising 
hour.  His  man  brought  in  tea,  and  then  he  was  conscious  of 
a  slight  faintness  and  remembered  that  he  had  not  dined  the 
previous  evening.  It  was  too  early  yet  for  the  hearty  midday 

76 


ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE 

luncheon  at  the  hotel,  so  he  walked  rapidly  down  to  one  of 
the  restaurants  on  the  Naberezhnaya*  overlooking  the  bath- 
ing beach.  Seeing  Stourdza  at  a  table  sipping  a  cup  of  black 
coffee,  he  joined  him  and  ordering  a  solid,  English  breakfast 
set  to  work  to  do  it  full  justice.  The  melancholy  baron 
looked  on  in  amazement. 

"Where  did  you  dine  last  night?"  he  asked,  at  length. 

"I  dined  on  air,  bad  news  and  hot  temper,  and  found 
them  not  very  nourishing,"  laughed  the  prince,  bitterly. 
"  Stourdza,  you  have  it  in  your  power  to  do  me  a  great 
service." 

"Dear  Knyaz,  Lyeff  Petrovich,  I  am  yours  to  command!" 

"I  understand,"  said  Solntsoff,  slowly,  "that  Miss  Bran- 
don is  no  longer  your  wife's  guest?" 

"No,  the  proud  stepsisters  have  returned.' 

"That  I  know  to  my  discomfiture,"  remarked  the  prince; 
and  he  then  told  the  baron  of  Alyosha's  confidence,  of  his 
own  attempt  to  see  Faith  and  of  Genevieve's  dismissal 
of  him. 

Like  Alyonkin  and  the  old  prince,  Stourdza  seemed  to  find 
something  irresistibly  funny  in  the  situation,  but  soon  be- 
came earnest  when  he  saw  the  matter  from  Solntsoff's  point 
of  view. 

"I  too,  could  laugh  if  it  concerned  only  myself,"  said 
the  latter,  "but  I  cannot  afford  to  do  so  when  I  think  of 
the  tears  and  the  fears  of  that  sweet,  innocent  girl.  She 
sees  in  what  light  the  grown-up,  experienced  women  about 
her  interpret  a  child's  thoughtless  prattle.  It  is  a  shock  she 
should  have  been  spared,  but  at  least  she  must  not  suffer  a 
moment  longer  than  necessary." 

"No,"  agreed  the  baron,  "but  how  are  we  to  reach  her? 
I  suppose  you  know  that  she  is  off  for  the  day  with  a  party 
of  young  people  from  the  Pension,  a  boat  trip  and  picnic 
to  Alushta." 

*  Quay  or  embankment. 

77 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"I  did  not  know.  Miss  Genevieve  vouchsafed  me  no 
information  with  regard  to  her  sister's  plans." 

Stourdza's  handsome  face  had  lost  its  melancholy  and 
assumed  an  expression  of  keenest  interest  and  animation. 
Nothing  delighted  him  more  than  plot  and  intrigue.  He  was 
in  his  element. 

"I  wager  the  picnic  was  planned  for  the  express  purpose  of 
keeping  Miss  Fides  away  from  the  dangers  of  your  dissolute 
society!"  chuckled  he.  "But  I  have  a  famous  counterplot. 
The  proud  stepsister  is  not  with  them,  but  my  wife  went 
unexpectedly,  to  matronize  some  young  girls.  Now,  what 
if  I  take  it  into  my  head  to  meet  my  wife,  and  board  the 
steamer  on  its  homeward  trip  as  it  stops  at  Gurziif  landing, 
eight  or  ten  miles  above  here?  That  gives  me  a  pleasant 
little  sail  of  an  hour  in  the  cool  of  the  evening!  What  more 
natural  than  that  I  should  ask  you  to  join  me,  since  no  one 
has  warned  me  that  you  are  persona  non  grata1?  Very  well ! 
We  board  the  steamer,  you  make  your  explanations  to  my 
wife,  who  will  in  turn  make  a  discreet  explanation  to  the 
young  lady.  Well,  what  do  you  say?" 

"I  am  very  grateful  to  you,  but  this  skirmishing  with  an 
unfair  and  prejudiced  woman  goes  against  the  grain.  If 
there  were  only  a  man  in  the  family! " 

"I  have  no  scruples!"  laughed  the  baron.  "There  is 
nothing  I  should  relish  better  than  the  discomfiture,  by  fair 
means  or  foul,  of  the  proud  sisters! " 

The  day  dragged  wearily  on.  It  seemed  to  Solntsofi  that 
his  writing  had  grown  hateful  to  him,  that  the  newspapers 
had  never  been  so  disgustingly  stupid  and  wrong  headed. 
Even  the  society  of  his  beloved  uncle  was  perilously  near 
being  distasteful,  while  the  children  had  turned  from  charm- 
ing little  angels  into  insupportable  little  imps.  The  Septem- 
ber day  was  unseasonably  hot,  with  brooding  storm  clouds. 
Detestable  strangers  intruded  into  the  garden,  taking  posses- 
sion of  all  his  favorite  nooks.  The  whole  world  was  awry! 


ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE 

In  the  hottest  part  of  the  hot  afternoon  a  motor  car  drove 
along  the  seaside  road  toward  Gurzuf.  Within  it  sat  two 
manly  figures  in  gray  tweeds,  one  big  and  fair,  the  other 
short  and  dark.  The  storm  clouds  that  had  looked  so 
threatening  but  a  short  while  before  were  now  dissipated. 
The  heat  was  stifling,  the  dust  lay  thick  on  the  road,  the  men 
swallowing  it  with  every  breath. 

"We  shall  make  it  easily.  The  boat  is  just  rounding  the 
cliffs  of  Cape  Aiu  Dag,  and  we  are  a  scant  mile  from  the 
landing,"  said  the  melancholy  dark  man  to  his  fair  com- 
panion. 

Suddenly  the  car  gave  a  foreboding  lurch.  The  two  men 
were  pitched  sideways  and  with  difficulty  recovered  them- 
selves and  climbed  out. 

"It  is  impossible  to  make  the  repairs  under  half  an 
hour,"  announced  the  mechanician.  "Their  Excellencies 
must  walk  to  the  boat. " 

"Walk!"  muttered  the  baron,  "It  will  have  to  be  —  run! " 
And  his  language  had  best  not  be  transcribed. 

Settling  hastily  with  the  chauffeur  the  two  companions 
left  the  machine  to  its  fate  and  started  rapidly  down  the 
glaring,  dusty  road.  The  heat  was  sticky  and  oppressive, 
but  they  pushed  on,  taking  off  their  coats  and  removing 
their  collars.  They  could  see  the  steamer  rounding  the 
headland  and  they  broke  into  a  run,  the  two  pairs  of 
legs,  the  long,  shapely  limbs  of  the  princely  Russ  and  the 
shorter,  slimmer  ones  of  the  noble  Galician  clearing  the 
ground  in  fine  style  for  a  time.  Then  the  older  man  halted 
and  called  out: 

"Run  ahead,  Knydz!  — I  can't  keep  up  this  pace  — you 
are  a  younger  man — and  you've  led  a  better  life — straighten 
it  out  for  me  with  my  wife! " 

Solntsoff  stopped  instantly  and  turned  back.  "I  beg  your 
pardon,  Baron!"  he  exclaimed.  "We  will  stand  or  fall 
together. " 

79 


FAITH  BRANDON 

But  the  plucky  Austrian  soon  recovered  himself,  and 
five  minutes  later  the  two  men  were  walking  up  the  gang- 
plank of  the  steamer,  breathless,  dusty,  soaked  with  per- 
spiration, mopping  their  brows  with  their  handkerchiefs 
and  fanning  themselves  with  their  hats.  They  lingered  a 
few  moments  in  the  lower  cabin  to  brush  their  clothes 
and  boots,  wash  their  faces  and  hands,  replace  their 
collars  and  ties,  smooth  their  hair  and  twirl  their 
moustaches.  When,  a  little  later,  they  emerged  out  on 
to  the  upper  deck  they  were  cool,  self-possessed,  elegant 
and  immaculate. 

They  looked  about  them.  The  deck  was  crowded  with 
excursionists,  but  they  saw  no  signs  of  the  baroness,  of  Faith, 
or  of  any  party  of  young  people.  They  searched  anxiously 
in  every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  boat.  Not  a  familiar  face 
did  they  see. 

Both  men  began  to  look  pale  and  disturbed.  The  baron's 
hands  were  clenched  and  his  upper  lip  twitched  nervously. 
There  had  been  occasional  moments  in  his  life  when  he  had 
felt  as  if  he  were  more  or  less  indifferent  to  his  wife,  and  that 
in  the  event  of  her  removal  from  this  earthly  sphere  he 
might,  without  too  great  difficulty,  find  adequate  consola- 
tion. But  there  were  other  moments,  of  which  the  present 
was  one,  when  he  became  conscious  that  his  love  for  her 
was  still  very  strong  indeed,  that  to  lose  her  would  be  like 
tearing  off  a  limb. 

"There  can  have  been  no  accident;  some  of  the  party 
would  have  telegraphed  in  such  a  case  before  the  steamer 
left  Alushta,"  he  tried  to  say,  but  his  lips  were  dry,  and  his 
voice  sounded  a  mile  away. 

Just  then  an  official  came  up.  " Pardon  1  Permit  me! 
Are  their  Excellencies  looking  for  friends?"  he  asked.  "A 
party  of  young  people,  perhaps,  under  the  care  of  a  stout, 
middle-aged  lady,  on. the  monu'ng  boat?" 

"Yes!  Yes!"  answered  Solntsoff  eagerly,  but  the  baron 

So 


ALYOSHA  MAKES  TROUBLE 

stared  in  indignation.  Who  dared  to  describe  his  wife  as 
stout  and  middle-aged! 

"The  sea  was  rough  this  morning,  so  the  party  got  off 
at  Gurzuf,  saying  they  would  return  by  post  to  Yalta  this 
evening,"  explained  the  official. 

The  two  noblemen  looked  at  one  another  blankly.  "  Sold !" 
exclaimed  the  baron  at  last.  Then  they  parted  instinctively, 
and  for  the  rest  of  the  homeward  trip  each  paced  the  deck 
in  solitary  ill-humor;  the  prince  forward,  the  baron  aft. 


81 


CHAPTER  VII 


STEPSISTERS 

'  Where  is  the  heart  that  doth  not  keep 
Within  its  inmost  core, 
Some  fond  remembrance  hidden  deep? 
Who  hath  not  saved  some  trifling  thing, 
More  prized  than  jewels  rare?" 


THE  threatened  storm  came  up  toward  sunset,  with  high 
wind  and  driving  rain,  and  a  severe  fall  in  the  temperature. 
When  the  crisis  had  passed,  the  weather  settled  down  to  a 
light,  steady  drizzle  or  Scotch  mist. 

Faith  also  had  found  the  day  long  and  weary.  Under 
other  circumstances  it  would  have  interested  her  greatly 
to  wander  about  the  magnificent  park  of  Gurzuf,  to  see 
the  castle  where  Pushkin  had  lived,  to  visit  the  fine  Mo- 
hammedan mosque  and  the  Tatar  village  and  restaurants. 
But  somehow  to-day  everything  went  wrong.  She  felt  im- 
patient and  irritable. 

"Faith!"  said  the  baroness,  severely,  "what  are  manners 
for?  What  is  the  object  of  good  breeding?  " 

Faith  colored  deeply.  "I  beg  your  pardon,  Baroness, 
I  forgot  myself,"  she  said,  humbly.  "I  will  try  to  be  more 
patient  and  obliging." 

"Manners,"  observed  the  baroness,  " — mind  you,  I 
know  I  haven't  any  myself  —  are  to  help  us  conceal  and 
control  our  moods,  and  so  make  life  pleasanter  for  those 
about  us,  and  incidentally  for  ourselves,  also.  There!  write 
that  down  in  your  copy-book!" 

Faith  smiled  and  tried  her  best,  but  it  was  uphill  work. 
For  great   tribulation   had  befallen  her.    The  previous 

82 


STEPSISTERS 

evening,  the  evening  of  Kynaz  Solntsoff's  expected  return, 
Genevieve  had  called  her  to  her  room  shortly  after  dinner. 

"I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  Faith,"  she  began,  with 
the  usual  drawl  in  her  voice  that  presaged  trouble.  "You 
are  too  young  to  know  much  about  the  world,  and  your 
constant  association  with  foreigners  is  giving  us  great  anxiety. 
They  have  such  different  ideas  of  right  and  wrong  conduct 
from  what  we  have,  and  you  are  not  old  enough  to  appre- 
ciate the  meaning  of  many  things.  Now  this  afternoon,  for 
instance,  that  little  Russian  boy  unconsciously  disclosed  a 
state  of  affairs  that  we  older  women  at  once  recognized  as 
most  shocking  and  wicked,  but  of  course  you  did  not  know 
what  we  inferred  from  it." 

"Why,  yes,  I  did,"  said  Faith,  ingenuously.  "I  couldn't 
help  knowing  what  you  thought,  from  the  way  you  looked 
at  each  other." 

"You  knew  what  we  thought!"  echoed  her  sister,  in  hor- 
rified accents.  "Then  it  is  worse  than  I  feared.  Your 
foreign  friends  have  already  contaminated  you.  You  have 
no  right  at  your  age  to  know  what  inference  we  drew." 

"But  how  can  I  help  knowing  it?"  asked  Faith,  puzzled. 
"All  the  standard  books  in  English  literature  deal  with  just 
such  situations  —  'Vicar  of  Wakefield,'  Tride  and  Prejudice,' 
'Henry  Esmond,' "  checking  them  off  on  her  fingers,  "  'David 
Copperfield,'  'Romola,'  '  Idylls  of  the  King.'  Of  course  I 
knew  at  once  that  you  thought  it  was  like  Steerforth  and 
Little  Em'ly,  or  Squire  Thornhill  and  Olivia,  or  like  Tito 
Melema." 

"Faith,  lam  shocked!  I  am  horrified!  You  are  a  coarse, 
evil-minded  girl.  A  good  girl  would  see  no  wrong  in  such 
books!" 

"I'm  not  evil-minded!"  retorted  Faith,  driven  to  bay, 
"but  I'm  not  so  dull  that  I  get  no  ideas  from  the  very  books 
that  you  yourself  advised  me  to  read!" 

"Insolent  girl!"  hissed  Genevieve,  her  delicate  features 

83 


FAITH  BRANDON 

distorted  with  rage.  "I'll  teach  you  to  defend  your  disso- 
lute foreign  friends  at  my  expense!"  and,  springing  at  Faith, 
she  seized  her  by  the  braided  hair  and  slapped  her  violently 
half  a  dozen  times  across  the  face. 

For  a  moment  Faith  was  so  dazed  and  startled  that  she 
could  do  nothing.  Then,  grasping  her  stepsister  by  the 
shoulders,  she  shook  her  with  all  her  young  strength. 

"You  little  fury!  Don't  you  dare  to  hold  me!  Let  me 
go  instantly!"  commanded  the  older  woman,  the  words  hiss- 
ing between  her  teeth. 

The  blood  surged  to  Faith's  brain,  the  marks  of  Gene- 
vieve's  fingers  showed  white  in  her  scarlet  cheeks.  She 
held  her  sister's  arms  as  in  a  vise.  Then,  like  a  dash  of 
cold  water,  came  the  thought  —  "What  if  he  saw  me 
now!  he,  the  'courteous  prince,'  the 'good  Prince  Fair-Sun!' 
What  if  he  knew  all  his  Little  Comrade  was  doing?  " 

Her  fingers  loosened  their  clasp,  her  hands  fell  by  her  side 
as  if  paralyzed.  She  held  her  tongue  tightly  between  her 
teeth.  She  had,  indeed,  been  "a  little  fury." 

"You  may  undress  and  go  to  bed  instantly,"  said  Gene- 
vieve,  with  intense  gravity.  "I  will  consult  with  Sophy 
about  this  truly  shocking  state  I  find  you  in,  and  we  will 
determine  on  your  punishment  and  on  what  course  to  pursue 
with  you  in  the  future.  But  in  the  meantime  I  put  you  on 
your  honor  to  go  to  bed  at  once." 

And  Genevieve  sailed  out  of  the  room,  well  knowing  the 
magic  hold  the  word  "honor"  had  on  Faith's  conscience 
and  obedience. 

A  few  moments  later,  the  fair,  Madonna-like  face  of  Gene- 
vieve Brandon,  tinged  with  an  appealing  sadness,  was  seen 
among  the  German  and  English  ladies  on  the  terrace  of  the 
Pension  Seiler. 

"No  one  knows  what  I  have  to  endure  from  that  child!" 
she  sighed.  "Of  course,  if  she  were  my  own  sister  I  could 
take  stronger  measures  with  her,  but  my  position  is  a  very 

84 


STEPSISTERS 

delicate  one,  and  the  poor,  motherless,  uncontrolled  girl 
appeals  to  my  tenderness  in  a  way  that  makes  me  unequal 
to  dealing  firmly  with  her.  But  these  scenes  shake  me  to 
the  very  soul!  No  one  would  believe  me  if  I  should 
tell  them  all,  but  there  are  times  when  she  seems 

' 

more  like  a  veritable  little  demon  than  a  human  Christian 
child." 

"I  am  sure  no  mother  could  do  more  for  her  than  you," 
murmured  one  of  the  ladies  present.  "  She  ought  to  be  very 
grateful." 

"My  sister  and  I  do  not  ask  for  gratitude,"  said  Genevieve, 
meekly  and  resignedly.  "We  only  hope  that  our  sacrifices 
may  bear  fruit  in  time." 

Meanwhile  the  "human,  Christian  child"  upstairs,  her 
face  still  stinging  from  the  blows,  was  lying  sobbing  on  the 
bed,  torn  with  shame  and  remorse  and  the  bitterness  of 
self-denunciation. 

"Oh,  Mother,  Mother!"  she  moaned,  "if  I  only  had  you! 
You  would  be  so  patient  and  loving!  You  wouldn't  think 
me  dreadful,  but  you  would  love  your  little  daughter  and 
take  her  in  your  arms  and  tell  her  what  was  right  and 
what  was  wrong.  Oh,  Mother!  can't  you  pray  up  there  in 
Heaven  for  your  little  girl,  and  comfort  her?" 

She  slid  down  on  her  knees  by  the  bedside.  "I  wish  I 
could  go  to  confession,  as  he  does,"  she  thought.  "It  is 
like  Christian's  Burden, —  I  can't  be  happy  till  I  get  rid 
of  it!"  She  drew  a  long,  long  sigh. 

Then  her  head  sank  against  the  bed.  "After  confession 
you  have  to  do  penance,"  she  remembered.  "You  have  to 
make  reparation  for  your  fault  as  far  as  you  can.  I  shall 
have  to  beg  Genevieve's  pardon!  I  know  I  shall;  I  have  felt 
it  coming  all  along!" 

She  rose  wearily  and  began  to  undress.  "He  will  come 
over  to  explain  and  I  shall  not  see  him,"  she  thought,  re- 
gretfully, "and  that  is  part  of  my  penance,  too.  But  at 

85 


FAITH  BRANDON 

any  rate  he  will  see  Genevieve  and  make  his  explanation,  and 
she  will  know  that  all  is  right." 

This  thought  cheered  her  greatly,  and  by  the  time  she  was 
undressed  and  bathed  and  her  prayers  said,  she  was  quite 
calm  and  happy.  Then  she  went  to  the  trunk  and  drew  out 
from  its  depths  her  special  treasures  and  ranged  them  care- 
fully under  her  pillow.  First  came  her  mother's  photo- 
graph, then  one  of  her  brother  and  his  two  little  boys,  then 
a  small  package  of  letters  from  her  brother  and  aunts. 
Each  one  she  kissed  affectionately  before  putting  it  in  its 
resting  place.  Next,  with  a  very  conscious  blush  and  a 
guilty  look  over  her  shoulder  as  if  to  be  sure  that  no  one  was 
watching  her,  she  brought  out  two  books.  Each  one  she 
opened  and  with  a  happy  little  giggle  read  the  inscription 
—  "To  Vyera  Karlovna,  in  friendly  remembrance  of  Prince 
Leo  Solntsoff." 

Pressed  between  the  leaves  lay  some  wild  flowers  and 
ferns.  These  she  looked  at  long  and  lovingly,  then  timidly 
touched  her  lips  to  them  and,  as  if  alarmed  at  her  own 
boldness,  hastily  closed  the  books  and  tucked  them  under 
her  pillow.  Last  came  what  seemed  to  be  the  most  precious 
treasure  of  all,  a  large,  neatly  folded  handkerchief,  with 
initials  in  Russian  characters  surmounted  by  the  closed 
coronet  of  a  prince,  embroidered  in  one  corner.  This  was 
pressed  to  her  heart  and  to  her  cheek,  not  once  but  many, 
many  times.  "Please,  God,  bless  my  Big  Friend!"  she 
prayed.  Then  she  lay  down  to  sleep  in  the  company  of  all 
her  dearest  and  best. 

She  was  just  drowsing  off  into  dreamland  when  the  noise 
of  a  creaking  door  startled  her,  and  she  opened  her  eyes  to 
see  Genevieve  entering  from  the  adjoining  room.  With  a 
quiver  of  dismay  and  inward  rebellion  Faith  recollected  what 
she  had  resolved  to  do. 

"  We  have  decided  that  you  may  go  on  the  young  people's 
picnic  from  the  Pension  in  the  morning,  since  I  organized 

86 


STEPSISTERS 

it,  and  it  will  keep  you  away  from  undesirable  acquaintances 
for  the  day,  at  least,"  announced  Genevieve,  in  business- 
like tones.  "I  shall  not  go,  for  the  less  you  and  I  see  of 
each  other  the  better. " 

Faith  sat  up  in  bed.  She  swallowed  hard,  then  she  held 
out  her  hands.  "I  am  very  sorry  I  lost  my  temper  and 
treated  you  so  badly.  Please  forgive  me,"  she  said, 
humbly,  and  she  opened  out  her  arms  and  lifted  up  her 
face  as  if  she  expected  to  receive  a  Prodigal's  welcoming 
kiss. 

Genevieve  looked  surprised  for  a  moment,  then  she  con- 
trolled herself  and  replied  frigidly,  "I  am  very  glad  you 
realize  the  outrageousness  of  your  conduct.  It  is  the  least 
you  can  do  to  ask  my  pardon.  I  forgive  you  of  course,  but 
it  will  be  my  duty  to  punish  you  just  the  same.  You  will 
know  to-morrow  night  what  we  have  decided.  I  leave 
the  alarm  clock  here.  It  is  set  for  half-past  five,"  and  she 
turned  to  go  back  to  her  room. 

Just  as  she  turned,  her  eye  fell  upon  some  colored  object 
protruding  from  under  Faith's  pillow.  "What  is  that?" 
she  asked,  suspiciously. 

For  one  mad  instant  Faith  wanted  to  fling  herself  across 
the  pillow  and  protect  her  treasures  with  her  very  life's 
blood.  But,  instead,  she  grew  quite  white  and  stiffened 
up  very  straight.  It  was  like  a  sharp  knife  stab  to  her  proud, 
sensitive  soul  to  have  the  secrets  of  her  foolish,  girlish  heart 
laid  bare  to  unsympathetic  eyes.  She  slid  to  her  feet  and 
stood  by  the  bedside  with  folded  arms  and  defiant  looks, 
but,  oh,  such  a  faint,  sinking  spirit  within! 

Genevieve  tossed  the  pillow  aside  and  there  lay  exposed 
the  sweet  treasures  of  an  affectionate,  loyal,  modest,  shrink- 
ing maidenhood,  walking  timidly  in  the  first  pale  flush  of 
dawning  womanhood  toward  the  sunrise  gates  of  life  that 
were  slowly  opening  before  it. 

Genevieve  pounced  upon  the  handkerchief.    She  saw  the 

87 


FAITH  BRANDON 

princely  coronet  and  the  Russian  initials.  "Disgraceful!" 
she  cried.  "Bold-faced,  shameless  girl!"  And  she  tore  the 
handkerchief  from  end  to  end,  again  and  again,  till  nothing 
was  left  of  it  but  shreds. 

Faith  sank  upon  the  floor  in  a  distressful  heap.  She 
hardly  knew  what  passed  after  that,  but  she  was  vaguely, 
dazedly  conscious  that  Genevieve  was  taking  up  the  books 
and  pulling  out  the  pages  with  the  inscriptions,  tearing  them 
in  bits  and  stamping  them  under  foot,  together  with  the  dry 
ferns  and  flowers  within. 

"I  leave  with  you  the  picture  of  the  mother  whose  memory 
you  have  disgraced!  You  can  keep  your  brother's  too, 
though  I  blame  him  and  his  foreign  friends  largely  for  this 
dreadful  state  of  affairs.  But  these  I  take  possession  of," 
and  the  sister  gathered  up  the  books  and  the  bundle  of  letters. 

"Not  the  letters!"  cried  Faith,  springing  to  her  feet. 
"My  letters  from  my  brother,  my  dear  aunts!  They  are 
sacred,  confidential!  You  have  no  right  to  touch  them!" 

"Do  not  be  giving  me  lessons  in  honor!"  sneered  Gene- 
vieve. "I  see  well  enough  that  the  envelopes  are  in  their 
handwriting,  but  how  do  I  know  what  you  have  hidden 
within  them?" 

Faith  drew  herself  up  proudly.  " Take  them!"  she  said, 
quietly.  "I  give  you  permission  to  read  every  word.  You 
need  have  no  qualms  of  conscience  about  it." 

Genevieve  swept  out  of  the  room. 

"There's  one  letter  there  from  Rupert  that  will  give  her 
something  to  think  about,"  said  Faith  to  herself,  grimly. 
It  seemed  as  if  she  had  no  more  tears  and  could  suffer  no 
more.  She  took  up  her  mother's  picture  and  looked  long 
into  the  dignified,  gentle,  refined  countenance  and  tender 
eyes,  that  seemed  to  be  gazing  straight  into  hers. 

"You  would  have  understood!"  said  Faith,  kissing  the 
photograph  passionately.  "You  might  have  chided  me  a 
little  for  being  foolish  and  sentimental,  but  you  would  have 

88 


STEPSISTERS 

known  there  was  no  shame,  no  disgrace.  You  would  have 
laughed  a  little,  and  kissed  me  softly  and  said,  'You  are  a 
good,  trustworthy  little  girl,  Faithie,  but  you  must  not  en- 
courage yourself  in  silly  notions  or  let  yourself  care  so  much 
for  a  man  who  may  not  want  your  affection.  Remember 
you  are  to  him  only  his  "Little  Comrade."  He  thinks  of 
you  only  as  a  child.  Love  him  truly  and  loyally  as  your 
kind,  noble  friend,  for  he  deserves  it,  but  remember  what  is 
due  your  own  self-respect  and  maidenly  reserve.'  'I  will 
try,  Mother  dear,  and  truly  I  would  not  have  kept  his  hand- 
kerchief had  he  not  first  kept  my  ribbon.'  'I  know  it, 
darling!  I  am  only  warning  you  and  watching  over  you  for 
the  future.  God  bless  my  baby  girl ! ' ' 

And  hugging  the  picture  to  her  breast,  Faith  cried  herself 
to  sleep. 

And  thus  it  was  that  the  following  day,  at  a  stupid  picnic, 
with  young  companions  for  whom  she  cared  not  one  straw, 
the  time  had  passed  slowly  and  wearisomely,  a  trial  to  her 
temper  and  a  severe  test  of  her  manners. 

During  Faith's  absence  Genevieve  Brandon  completed 
her  arrangements  for  the  girl's  future.  She  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  a  Lady  Bowen,  widow  of  an  Englishman  of 
some  distinction  as  a  traveler  and  Persian  scholar,  and 
had  learned  that  the  lady  was  returning  from  the  Far  East 
by  easy  stages,  on  her  way  to  Leipsic,  where  she  was  to 
superintend  the  translation  into  German  of  some  of  her 
husband's  works.  Lady  Bowen  was  well  acquainted  with 
German  life  and  schools,  and  promised  to  recommend  Faith 
to  an  excellent  German  family  with  whom  she  could  board 
at  reasonable  rates  while  attending  courses  at  the  schools. 

"A  staunch  Lutheran  family,  I  hope,"  said  Genevieve, 
who  never  went  to  church  herself.  "She  has  been  two 
months  with  the  Stourdzas,  who  are  Romanists,  and  has  been 
going  to  church  with  them  or  else  to  the  Greek  Orthodox 
churches  with  those  Russians.  I  don't  know  what  her 

89 


FAITH  BRANDON 

brother  is  thinking  of.  She  is  pretty  well  demoralized 
already.  Her  sister  and  I  can  do  little,  as  we  expect  to  be 
traveling  constantly.  It  would  not  be  the  right  kind  of 
life  for  her  at  all.  I  shall  be  thankful  to  have  her  under 
healthful  religious  influences." 

When  everything  was  decided,  Genevieve  "consulted" 
Sophy,  who  looked  a  little  disappointed  to  lose  Faith's 
company  on  their  travels,  but  was  quickly  and  easily  con- 
vinced of  the  wisdom  of  the  decision,  and  was  sent  into  town 
on  some  commissions  for  the  girl's  journey,  while  Genevieve 
settled  herself  in  a  sheltered  corner  of  the  veranda. 

Shortly  before  noon  Solntsoff  had  passed  within  a  short 
distance  of  the  Pension  on  his  way  to  the  Naberezhnaya. 
Genevieve  scanned  the  passing  figure  attentively. 

"He  is  not  exactly  a  handsome  man,  but  there  is  some- 
thing very  stunning  about  him,"  she  mused.  "It  is  in  .his 
bearing  and  expression.  He  appears  to  wear  his  clothes 
carelessly,  but  he  has  lots  of  style.  I  don't  like  fair  men,  as 
a  rule,  and  his  forehead  is  too  high;  but  with  his  hat  on  he 
looks  particularly  well,  as  he  has  rather  fascinating  eyes  and 
a  well-cut,  aristocratic  nose.  I  don't  like  his  mouth,  though; 
it  is  set  in  very  obstinate,  aggressive  lines.  Still,  it  does 
not  show  much  under  his  moustache,  and  he  can  give  a  very 
winning  smile  when  he  chooses.  I  remember  that  the  night 
we  spent  here  on  the  way  to  the  Caucasus,  I  picked  him  out 
from  a  group  of  men  at  the  hotel,  not  as  the  handsomest, 
but  as  easily  the  most  distinguished  looking." 

Here  Genevieve  started  slightly  and  frowned.  "Why 
did  I  not  think  of  it  then?"  she  asked  herself.  "I  was  not 
so  very  keen  on  that  trip  to  the  Caucasus,  wonderful  as  it 
proved  to  be.  But  if  I  could  have  foreseen  that  there  would 

be  six  or  eight  weeks  of  propinquity "  She  stopped, 

bit  her  lip  and,  springing  up,  began  to  pace  the  terrace  rest- 
lessly. "Fool  that  I  was!"  she  exclaimed.  "All  this  time 
wasted!  Of  course  he  was  only  amusing  himself  with  the 

90 


STEPSISTERS 

child,  and  I  have  gone  and  quarreled  with  him  over  her! 
I  have  certainly  played  my  cards  badly,  but  is  it  too  late? 
We  can  put  off  Athens  and  Corfu  for  two  or  three  weeks. 
Sophy  will  not  care.  It  is  a  pretty  title,  and  a  genuinely 
old,  historic  one,  they  say,  going  back  nine  centuries  in  the 
direct  male  line  to  the  old  sovereigns  of  Moscow.  Of  course 
I  would  never  live  in  Russia.  I  should  insist  on  living  some- 
where on  the  continent.  Paris  or  Rome,  probably.  Rus- 
sians are  fond  of  travel  and  very  cosmopolitan.  Besides, 
I  should  control  the  money,  as  he  has  nothing  but  a  beggarly 
salary.  They  say  he  holds  a  high  position  at  court,  which 
would  entitle  me  to  be  presented.  Is  it  too  late?  " 

Certainly  she  had  made  a  bad  beginning.  She  must 
devise  some  way  to  rectify  this  false  start.  She  would  call 
at  the  villa  this  very  evening  and  see  what  could  be  done  to 
clear  up  the  situation. 

At  the  Kliazemski  villa  an  uncomfortable  evening  followed 
an  uncomfortable  day.  The  old  prince's  rheumatism  was 
aggravated  by  the  heat  and  the  succeeding  storm.  He 
played  his  usual  game  of  chess  with  his  nephew,  but  both 
men's  tempers  were  on  edge  and  it  was  with  difficulty  that 
they  preserved  the  peace.  Then  Solntsoff,  seeing  that  the 
worst  of  the  storm  was  over,  determined  to  walk  off  his  ill- 
humor  and  afterward  drop  in  at  the  Stourdzas,  for  consul- 
tation. He  went  to  his  room  for  a  raincoat  and,  passing 
the  drawing-room  on  his  return  heard  a  woman's  voice 
within.  Standing  on  the  threshold,  hat  in  hand,  he  glanced 
in  and  saw  the  flaxen  head  and  Madonna-like  face  and  form 
of  Genevieve  Brandon  conversing  most  amicably  with  his 
uncle  and  sister. 

Genevieve  started,  rose,  and  came  forward,  hesitatingly, 
gracefully,  with  extended  hand. 

"Prince  Solntsoff,  I  owe  you  an  explanation,  perhaps 
you  will  think  —  an  apology.  But,  when  you  know  all, 
you  will  realize  how  exceedingly  difficult  and  delicate  my 


FAITH  BRANDON 

position  has  been,  and  that  in  my  inexperience  I  believed 
myself  to  be  acting  for  the  best.  If  I  have  been  mistaken, 
I  sincerely  beg  your  pardon." 

The  prince  bowed  courteously  over  the  extended  hand, 
which  he  did  not  touch,  and  placed  a  chair  for  her.  Then  he 
seated  himself  beside  his  uncle's  sofa.  He  would  commit 
himself  by  no  remark  till  she  had  made  her  explanation. 

"It  is  such  a  delicate  subject  I  hardly  know  how  to  begin," 
she  said,  lifting  her  large,  pale-blue  eyes  appealingly,  then 
letting  them  fall  modestly  under  the  shelter  of  their  long, 
flaxen  lashes.  After  a  moment's  hesitation,  she  turned  to 
the  older  prince.  "Let  me,  rather,  speak  to  you,  sir,  as  to  a 
father." 

"Spare  yourself,  my  dear  young  lady,"  suggested  the  older 
nobleman.  "It  must  indeed  be  hard  for  you  to  confide  in 
strangers." 

"Perhaps  there  is  not  the  necessity  for  explanation  that 
you  think,"  added  Countess  Chernyatina. 

"No  necessity,  perhaps  from  one  point  of  view,"  said 
Genevieve,  with  sad  eyes  and  tremulous  voice,  "but  the 
most  pressing  necessity  from  another.  I  do  not  misunder- 
stand Prince  Solntsoff's  position.  He  is  a  gentleman.  He 
takes  a  purely  friendly  interest  in  an  intelligent  young  school- 
girl, whom  he  looks  upon  as  a  mere  child,  and  shows  her 
great  kindness  —  a  kindness  which  no  woman  of  experience 
would  misinterpret.  But  Faith  is  not  experienced.  She  is 
at  the  most  romantic  and  impulsive  period  of  youth,  with 
ill-regulated  imagination  and  excitable,  ungoverned  tem- 
perament. And  the  terrible  part  of  it  is  — for  this  she 
is  not  responsible!"  and  here  Genevieve  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands,  stifling  a  sob. 

Countess  Chernyatina  gave  a  murmur  of  sympathy.  The 
two  men  glanced  at  each  other,  but  neither  spoke. 

Recovering  herself,  Genevieve  continued,  "Young  as  I 
am  for  such  burdens,  I  have  had  to  take  a  mother's  place 

92 


STEPSISTERS 

to  this  unhappy  child  for  nearly  three  years,  and  I  have 
guarded  her  secret  at  every  sacrifice.  I  have  been  misun- 
derstood, misjudged,  but  I  cared  not.  For  her  sake  silence 
has  been  best,  till  now.  But,  — Faith  must  never  marry! " 

An  uncomfortable  pause  ensued.  After  waiting  in  vain 
for  some  exclamation,  some  question  to  help  her  out,  Gene- 
vieve  pressed  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes  and  went  on. 

"I  did  not  permit  you  to  justify  yourself  last  evening, 
Prince,  because  I  thought  it  best  that  Faith  should  be  left 
to  think  ill  of  you,  if  it  would  have  the  effect  of  turning  her 
thoughts  from  you.  I  believed  it  might  be  best  for  you 
yourself  that  the  friendship  should  be  broken  off  before 
she  reached  womanhood.  It  is  such  a  sad  story.  My  father, 
soon  after  his  second  marriage,  found  himself  obliged  to  break 
up  our  beautiful  home  and  take  Faith's  mother  away.  His 
life  was  one  long  martyrdom  to  her  melancholia.  You  will 
remember,  Prince  Kliazemski,  that  Minister  Ludlow  died 
a  very  sudden  death,  which  never  was  explained.  That 
his  mind  had  been  affected  for  some  time  before  was  evident 
from  the  confusion  in  which  he  left  his  affairs.  Both  his 
living  daughters  are  great  sufferers  from  nervousness  and 
depression.  They  live  in  great  seclusion  and  their  eccen- 
tricities are  only  two  well  known.  Faith  was  rescued  from 
this  unhappy  household  three  years  ago,  and  my  sister  and 
I  have  devoted  ourselves  to  trying  to  build  up  a  healthy  brain 
and  body,  hoping  she  might  have  inherited  the  Brandon  con- 
stitution, which  is  absolutely  without  taint.  But,  alas! 
she  is  all  Ludlow!"  Here  Gene  vie  ve  broke  down  alto- 
gether. 

"Forgive  me!"  she  cried,  after  a  moment.  "I  do  not  ap- 
peal to  your  sympathy  for  myself,  though  my  position  is  a 
hard  one.  With  her  father  absent,  her  brother  dreading  the 
same  inheritance,  and  antagonistic  to  me  because  I  know 
his  secret  fears,  it  leaves  me  no  one  to  turn  to.  I  only  beg 
consideration  for  this  poor  child  whom  I  am  trying  to  guard, 

93 


FAITH  BRANDON 

whose  heart-breaking  premonitory  symptoms  I  am  struggling 
to  conceal." 

She  rose  and  extended  both  hands  toward  her  listeners. 
"There  is  only  one  way  to  befriend  me  and  my  unhappy 
little  sister.  As  men  of  heart,  of  delicacy,  of  honor,  you  will, 
I  know,  keep  my  confidence  sacred." 

"It  shall,  indeed,  be  sacredly  kept,"  said  the  old  man 
gravely. 

"I  shall  not  trouble  you  longer  with  my  sorrows  and  my 
fears,"  she  said,  sighing  deeply,  "but,"  turning  to  Solntsoff, 
"if  there  is  anything  further  you  care  to  learn  about  the  child 
to  whom  you  have  been  so  kind,  I  shall  always  be  at  home 
to  you  in  the  future,  for  I  believe  you  will  be,  in  the  truest 
sense,  our  friend." 

She  pressed  the  countess'  hand  with  a  murmured  appeal 
for  sympathy,  she  shook  hands  with  the  old  prince  with 
deep  reverence.  She  would  have  shaken  hands  with  Soln- 
tsoff also,  but  he  had  stepped  forward  to  open  the  outer  door 
for  her  and  stood  there  courteously,  holding  the  door  with 
one  hand  and  his  hat  with  the  other.  She  lifted  dewy, 
pleading  eyes  to  his. 

"You, most  of  all,  will  keep  my  confidence? "  she  entreated. 

"It  shall  be  exactly  as  if  you  had  not  spoken,"  replied 
the  prince,  quietly,  with  deliberate  meaning. 

When  Solntsoff  returned  to  the  sitting-room,  his  blue 
eyes  had  a  cold,  steely  glitter  and  his  mouth  was  set  in 
the  obstinate,  aggressive  lines  which  Genevieve  found  so 
ugly. 

The  old  prince  had  lost  the  kindly,  courteous  demeanor 
which  he  had  maintained  during  the  interview.  He  was 
flushed  and  stiff,  and  his  faded  eyes  fairly  snapped. 

"I  don't  believe  one  word  of  it!"  he  growled. 
'The  woman  was  lying,  that  was  plain  enough,"  said 
Solntsoff,  coolly.     "  God  only  knows  with  what  object." 

"Jealousy,"  said  his  sister,  shortly. 

94 


STEPSISTERS 

"For  heaven's  sake!"  he  scoffed.  "I  am  not  a  man  that 
women  lose  their  heads  over." 

"The  more  fools  they!"  grumbled  his  uncle. 

"You  would  be  more  generally  popular  with  the  ladies, 
Lyova,"  observed  the  countess,  "if  you  did  not  treat  all 
women  like  enemies.  If  you  ever  seemed  to  care  for  their 
society,  if  you  ever  glanced  pleasantly  and  invitingly  at 
them,  as  other  men  do,  they  would  respond  quickly  enough." 

The  hard  lines  about  the  young  man's  mouth  melted  into 
a  smile.  Certainly  he  had  "glanced  pleasantly  and  in- 
vitingly" at  Vyera  Karlovna,  and  she  had  not  failed  to 
respond! 

"However,"  continued  his  sister,  "I  mean  a  different 
kind  of  jealousy.  She  is  no  more  in  love  with  you  than  you 
are  with  her;  but  she  is  nearly  thirty  years  old  and  stili 
unmarried,  and  she  finds  it  hard  to  bear  that  her  little  step* 
sister,  at  sixteen,  should  capture  a  man  of  rank  and  distinc- 
tion, and  of  an  age  more  suitable  to  herself.  She  is  trying 
to  frighten  you  from  marrying  the  sister  and,  at  the  same 
time,  appeal  to  your  sympathy  on  her  own  behalf." 

"I  saw  Minister  Ludlow  three  weeks  before  his  death, 
and  he  was  as  sound  in  mind  as  you  or  I.  He  died  of  heart 
failure  from  overstudy  and  worry  over  bringing  out  his 
great  work  on  Ancient  Republics.  He  was  a  man  of  honor 
and  intellect.  The  ladies  of  his  family  were  of  exquisite 
breeding  and  culture.  It  was  good  stock,"  said  the  old 
prince.  "But,  Lyova,"  he  added  cautiously,  "though  the 
woman  is  lying  or,  at  least,  grossly  exaggerating,  still  it  is 
your  duty  to  investigate.  It  is  not  a  question  of  Vyera  alone, 
for  you  would  gladly  cherish  her  in  sickness  and  in  health,  but 
it  is  the  responsibility  for  those  that  come  after." 

"If  there  is  no  taint  on  the  father's  side,  and  you  know 
there  is  none  in  me,  the  danger  of  inheritance  should  be  halved 
for  the  children,"  said  Solntsoff,  thoughtfully,  reddening  a 
little  as  he  spoke  of  himself  in  this  relation.  "As  for  Vyera 

95 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Karlovna,  I  have  studied  her  at  close  range  for  six  weeks, 
day  in  and  day  out,  three  times  a  day,  and  if  she  has  in- 
cipient insanity  then  it  would  be  well  for  us  if  we  were  all 
a  little  insane.  But,  at  the  worst,  she  stands  as  good  a 
chance  to  escape  as  Milbanke,  who  is  thirty-six  and  has 
developed  nothing  yet." 

"Except,"  put  in  his  sister,  slyly,  "an  antagonism  to 
Miss  Brandon!" 

"The  best  proof  of  his  absolute  sanity,"  retorted  the 
brother,  with  a  grim  smile. 

Bidding  them  an  affectionate  good-night  and,  after  the 
beautiful  patriarchal  custom  of  Russian  family  life,  kneeling 
to  receive  the  old  man's  blessing,  Solntsoff  started  for  the 
hotel.  But  the  ill  luck  of  the  last  twenty-four  hours  still 
pursued  him.  The  Stourdzas  had  gone  out  for  the  evening, 
the  Alyonkins  had  left  Yalta  that  morning,  and  who  was 
there  to  whom  he  could  turn  at  this  juncture? 


96 


CHAPTER  VIII 


THE   COMING   OP   LANCELOT 

"A  bow-shot  from  her  bower-eaves 
He  rode  between  the  barley  sheaves  — 
'Tirra-lirra'  —  by  the  river, 
Sang  Sir  Lancelot." 

—  Tennyson. 

FOR  Faith,  also,  this  miserable  day  had  been  crowned  by 
misfortune.  On  her  return  from  the  heat  and  fatigue  of 
the  excursion  she  had  been  caught  in  the  drenching  storm. 
Going  to  her  room  to  change  her  clothes  she  found  there 
her  sister  Sophy  busily  packing  the  boxes. 

"Why,  what  are  you  doing,  Sophy?"  exclaimed  Faith. 
"  Why  are  you  packing  for  me?  Are  we,  —  we  are  not  going 
away!" 

"  Genevieve  has  left  a  note  to  explain.  She  has  gone  to 
a  bridge-party  at  the  Casino." 

Faith  opened  it  with  a  sinking  heart. 

"  We  have  decided  (wrote  Genevieve)  that  you  must  re- 
sume your  studies  without  further  loss  of  time,  and  have 
secured  a  comfortable  home  for  you  where  desirable  arrange- 
ments can  be  made  for  your  lessons.  You  will  leave  with 
Lady  Bowen  early  to-morrow  morning." 

"To-morrow!"  exclaimed  Faith.  Her  breath  seemed  to 
leave  her  and  she  sat  down  rather  suddenly  on  the  nearest 
chair. 

"You  will  pack  this  evening  (continued  the  note)  and  go 
to  bed  as  early  as  possible.  I  shall  see  the  Stourdzas  to- 
night at  the  Casino  and  will  explain  to  them  about  your 
sudden  departure.  I  have  also  said  good-bye  for  you  at  the 

97 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Kliazemski  villa,  as  I  did  not  wish  you  to  go  there  again,  so 
there  will  be  nothing  for  you  to  do  but  pack  and  get  a  good 
night's  rest.  You  will  be  wakened  at  six  o'clock.  Lady 
Bowen  will  tell  you,  after  you  start,  what  your  destination  is." 

It  seemed  to  Faith  as  if  she  were  choking.  She  rose  and 
went  to  the  window  for  air.  It  was  still  raining,  but  not  so 
heavily. 

Sophy  glanced  up  sympathetically.  No  doubt  Genevieve 
was  right,  but  it  was  a  little  hard  on  Faith  and  the  child 
looked  very  pale. 

"Faith,  dear,  you  have  had  a  hot,  tiring  day.  It  is  cooler 
now  after  the  rain.  You  had  better  go  out  and  get  a  little 
fresh  air.  I  will  finish  your  packing  for  you." 

Faith  was  touched,  for  though  Sophy  was  kind  she  was 
completely  under  Genevieve's  thumb  and  seldom  ventured 
to  give  her  little  sister  any  privileges.  Even  now  she  looked 
a  bit  startled  by  her  own  audacity.  Faith  thanked  her  and 
kissed  her  affectionately,  but  said  hesitatingly  that  she  would 
just  sit  quietly  by  the  window.  "I  think  possibly  Prince 
Solntsoff  may  come  over  to  call  on  us,"  she  explained, 
emboldened  to  frankness  by  Sophy's  goodness. 

Sophy  almost  trembled  at  what  she  was  about  to  do. 
"Didn't  Genevieve  tell  you  that  he  came  over  last  evening 
and  that  she  dismissed  him?" 

"He  came!"  gasped  Faith,  "and  she  dismissed  him! 
What  do  you  mean?" 

"She  thought  it  best,  dear.  We  don't  know  much  about 
him,  really,  and  she  felt  she  had  to  tell  him  that  he  could 
not  be  allowed  to  see  you,  and  that  she  could  not  receive 
any  messages  for  you.  She  says  he  looked  very  stiff  and 
haughty,  and  left  without  a  word." 

"  She  dismissed  him?  "  repeated  Faith,  tremulously.  "  Oh, 
Sophy!" 

"You  need  the  fresh  air,  dear.  If  you  would  like  to  run 
over  toward  the  hotel  to  —  er  —  to  bid  some  of  your  friends 

98 


THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT 

good-bye,  it  will  do  you  good.  Only,  come  home  early! 
Genevieve  wouldn't  like  to  find  you  up.  And  —  er  —  I  will 
explain  all  to  her  —  you  needn't  say  anything  or  wait  up  to 
bid  her  good-night.  I  don't  think  she  expects  it." 

Faith  was  only  too  glad  to  accept  the  good-natured  Sophy's 
proposition.  She  felt  stupefied  and  crushed.  So  he  had 
come  over  last  evening,  just  as  she  had  thought  he  would  do 
when  Alyosha  told  him  his  little  story.  He  had  come,  and 
he  had  been  dismissed,  without  being  allowed  to  explain  or 
to  send  her  the  least  little  message!  He  would  think  they 
believed  the  worst  of  him,  he  would  never  return  to  be  in- 
sulted a  second  time,  and  she  had  been  forbidden  to  go  to 
their  dacha.  She  would  never  see  him  again !  The  Stourdzas 
were  not  at  home,  there  was  no  one  who  could  speak  to  him 
for  her,  and  to-morrow  she  must  leave  at  daybreak  for  an 
unknown  destination.  The  end  of  all  had  come! 

She  started  sadly  down  the  avenue  and  crossed  the  road 
into  the  grounds  of  the  Hotel  Miramar.  The  hotel  parlors 
were  brilliantly  lighted.  She  would  find  every  one  within 
doors  this  stormy  night. 

No,  not  every  one!  In  the  dimness  of  the  lower,  unlighted 
veranda  she  could  make  out  a  tall  form  in  a  long  raincoat, 
his  soft  felt  hat  pulled  well  down  over  his  eyes,  pacing  back 
and  forth,  back  and  forth  the  short  covered  corridor  with 
quick,  restless  steps.  The  well-known  figure  had  none  of 
its  wonted  quiet,  poise  and  grace.  There  was  a  jerkiness 
in  his  movements,  a  haste  and  inequality  in  the  steps  that 
betokened  a  perturbed  frame  of  mind.  Faith's  heart  beat 
wildly.  How  she  longed  to  comfort  him! 

"I  can't  bear  to  see  him  like  that,"  she  said,  with  a  half- 
sob.  "I  can't  bear  not  to  go  to  him  in  his  trouble!  It  — 
it  hurts  me  to  see  him  suffer!  But  how  can  I  help  or  comfort 
him,  how  can  I  be  of  any  earthly  use  to  him?  Unless," 
she  added,  hesitatingly,  "he  is  perhaps  hurt  because  of 
Genevieve's  dismissal.  Does  he  feel  badly  for  fear  we  do 

99 


FAITH  BRANDON 

not  trust  him?  Could  it  be  that?  Perhaps  I  ought  to  let 
him  know  his  Little  Comrade  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
Isn't  that  what  Sophy  meant  in  letting  me  come  over?" 

In  an  instant  she  was  running  through  the  shadowy  path, 
the  heavy  raindrops  plashing  down  upon  her  from  the 
lightly  quivering  leaves.  She  entered  the  side  door  of  the 
hotel,  passed  down  the  stairway  to  the  lower  floor,  pushed 
open  the  door  into  the  covered  corridor,  and  stood  outside 
in  the  semi-darkness  where  the  tall  figure  was  restlessly 
pacing. 

He  turned  abruptly  and  stopped  short  in  his  tramp.  Then 
he  fetched  a  long  sigh  of  relief.  All  at  once  he  had  grown 
quite  composed  and  cheerful. 

But  Faith  was  full  of  sudden  alarms.  It  was  a  very  bold 
thing  she  had  done  to  seek  him  out  thus  alone,  at  this  hour. 
Perhaps  his  trouble  had  nothing  to  do  with  her.  Perhaps 
he  would  not  like  her  having  come. 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  disturbed  about  something.  I 
don't  wish  to  interrupt,"  she  stammered  apologetically, 
"but  I  came  to  say  that  I  did  not  know  till  five  minutes  ago 
that  you  had  called  last  evening." 

"I  was  sure  they  did  not  tell  you,"  he  replied  quietly. 
"I  know  you  would  wish  to  be  just  to  me,  to  give  me  a  chance 
to  explain.  But  by  this  time  you  have  heard  my  explana- 
tion from  Stourdza,  no  doubt." 

"I  have  heard  nothing.  I  have  not  seen  the  baron," 
she  said,  raising  her  eyes  to  his,  "but  I  was  so  sure  there 
was  a  good  explanation  that  I  did  not  need  to  hear  it  from 
him  or  from  any  one  else.  That  is  what  I  have  come  to 
tell  you." 

"Vyera,  Little  Comrade!"  he  cried,  taking  her  hands  in 
his  and  pressing  them  to  his  breast,  "you  make  me  very, 
very  happy!"  And  truly  he  looked  happy,  though  his 
eyes  were  moist  with  feeling.  Lacking  though  she  was  in 
self-confidence  Faith  could  not  but  see  that  her  childish, 

100 


THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT 

spontaneous  trust  had  brought  this  man  a  very  great  joy. 
It  seemed  wonderful  to  her  that  it  should  be  so,  but  there 
could  be  no  doubt  at  all  of  his  emotion. 

"You  do  not  interrupt  me,  Little  Comrade,"  he  said. 
"On  the  contrary,  your  coming  has  taken  away  my  trouble. 
I  have  been  praying  God  for  a  chance  to  speak  to  you. 
I  was  half  beside  myself!  Of  course  I  should  have  managed 
to  reach  you  somehow,  somewhere,  at  some  time;  but  I 
feared  that  in  the  meanwhile  they  might  have  poisoned  your 
young  mind  against  me,  that  you  might  be  sorrowful  and 
embittered,  and  your  trust  in  me  shaken  beyond  repair. 
Thank  God,  it  was  not  so,  and  you  are  here !  Do  you  wonder 
that  your  faith  is  sweet  to  me,  Vyera,  Little  Comrade?" 

He  led  her  to  a  bench,  made  her  sit  down  and  seated  him- 
self beside  her.  "You  have  trusted  me  enough  to  come,  — 
now  you  will  trust  me  enough  to  stay  a  few  minutes,  will 
you  not?"  he  asked.  "The  door  is  open,  we  are  in  full 
sight  of  all  who  care  to  look,  so  you  are  well  matronized! 
You  yourself  need  no  explanation  from  me,  yet  to  meet  the 
criticism  of  others  it  is  well  you  should  know  the  facts, 
which  your  brother  can  easily  verify.  The  truth  is,"  he  went 
on,  in  a  lighter,  gayer  tone,  "my  young,  well-dressed  friend 
that  Alyosha  grieved  to  find  was  not  his  aunt,  is  considerably 
Tver  sixty  years  of  age  and  the  mother  of  two  sons  older 
than  myself.  Dear  Mrs.  Palmgren  was  my  mother's  gov- 
erness, and  has  always  remained  the  true,  beloved  friend  of 
my  sister  and  myself.  I  have  my  modest  bachelor  quarters 
at  St.  Petersburg  in  her  house  on  the  Fontanka,  in  an  inde- 
pendent apartment  on  the  rez-de-chaussee.  Her  unmarried 
son  lives  with  her  on  the  upper  floor,  and  she  presides  over 
the  establishment  in  an  eminently  respectable  manner. 
But  Alyosha's  ideas  of  age  are  vague,  and  he  stretched  his 
imagination  as  far  as  he  dared  hi  placing  her  years  at'going-on 
thirty,'  which  he  regards  as  the  acme  of  decrepitude." 

Faith  laughed  merrily. 

101 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"Little  Comrade,  why  did  you  trust  me?"  he  asked, 
bending  toward  her  tenderly.  "You  little  inexperienced 
girl,  why  do  you  trust  any  one  in  this  big,  bad  world,  and  why, 
in  particular,  this  big  Russian  bear,  of  whom  you  know  so 
little,  so  absurdly  little?  You  are  really  not  reasonable  to 
do  so!" 

"Oh,  I  have  three  reasons  and  they  are  all  good  ones," 
she  replied,  with  great  seriousness.  "In  the  first  place  I 
trust  you  instinctively.  In  the  second  place  I  have  heard 
older,  wiser  persons  than  I,  speak  of  you  as  a  man  of  prin- 
ciple and  high  character.  Thirdly,  you  believe  in  and  prac- 
tise your  religion,  therefore  you  would  not  deliberately  lead 
other  than  a  good  life." 

"At  least,  I  do  not  lead  a  bad  one,"  he  assented,  folding 
his  arms  and  gazing  straight  out  before  him  into  the  half- 
darkness.  The  lights  of  the  neighboring  dachas  twinkled 
through  the  mist,  the  raindrops  plashed  heavily  from  the 
leafy  trees.  Faint  sounds  of  gayety  reached  their  ears 
from  the  house  within. 

"I  am  not  good  by  nature,"  he  said  at  last,  in  a  low  voice, 
as  if  communing  with  himself.  "  My  principles,  my  purposes 
in  life  are  good  and  I  am  striving  for  high  ideals.  But  my 
natural  disposition  is  about  as  ugly  a  one  as  any  man  was 
ever  called  upon  to  struggle  against."  . 

Faith  made  a  faint  exclamation  of  incredulity.  But  he 
continued,  merely  turning  slightly  toward  her. 

"You  only  know  me  at  my  best,  Little  Comrade.  As  I 
told  you,  at  the  very  beginning  of  our  friendship,  you  must 
not  falsely  idealize  your  friends.  You  must  expect  them  to 
have  defects;  you  must  be  prepared  to  be  patient  with  their 
failings.  You  are  not  acquainted  with  mine  yet,  because 
you  see  me  only  in  favorable  surroundings,  because  you 
yourself  draw  out  what  is  best  in  me.  I  lo  —  er  —  like  you 
so  much,  and  your  companionship  is  so  precious  to  me  and 
gives  me  so  much  happiness,  that  it  is  easy  for  me  to  be  nice 

IO2 


THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT 

to  you  as  I  meet  you  here.  But  if  you  were  with  me  day 
by  day  and  caught  me  off  my  guard,  as  it  were,  you  would 
soon  find  that  you  had  a  man  of  jealous,  disagreeable  temper 
to  deal  with.  But,"  he  added,  gravely,  "mine  would  have 
to  be  a  far  worse  nature  than  it  is  could  I  lead  aught  but  a 
clean  and  honorable  life,  for  by  the  mercy  of  God  I  was 
brought  up  by  the  best,  the  noblest  of  parents  and  teachers. 
They  inspired  us  with  a  positive  enthusiasm  for  what  is 
right  and  holy,  and  a  hearty  contempt  for  all  that  is  low 
and  evil.  No,  I  have  not  led  a  bad  life,  but  I  can  claim 
scant  credit  for  this.  My  many  and  great  faults  of  char- 
acter are  all  my  own,  but  my  virtues  I  owe,  under  God,  to 
my  parents." 

He  remained  silent  again  for  a  while,  still  gazing  out  into 
the  darkness  and  mist  before  him.  His  voice  was  slightly 
tremulous  when  he  resumed. 

"I  lost  them  both  before  my  seventeenth  year;  but  it 
seemed  as  if  their  death  had  only  served  to  give  their  counsels 
to  me  new  force  and  a  new  sacredness.  In  hours  of  tempta- 
tion and  of  struggle,  or,  what  is  worse,  of  a  weakness  that 
would  fain  give  up  the  struggle,  —  in  such  hours  the  memory 
of  their  words  has  come  to  me  as  vividly  as  if  newly  spoken. 
How  can  I  but  believe  in  the  Communion  of  Saints  when 
I  have  felt  their  loving  spirits  watching  over  me  at  the 
most  critical  moments  of  my  life?  I  was  not  quite  fourteen 
years  old  when  my  mother  died,  sixteen  years  ago;  but  there 
are  times  when  it  has  seemed  to  me  as  if  her  living  voice 
were  speaking  to  me  in  words  of  counsel,  or  comfort,  or 
warning',  so  near  has  her  beloved  spirit  been  to  mine  in  its 
hours  of  need!" 

He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands.    There  was  a  long  pause. 

Faith,  sitting  by  his  side,  felt  as  if  her  childhood  had 
passed  from  her  and  that  she  had  in  a  few  moments  grown 
into  the  full  stature  of  womanhood.  This  man,  this  noble, 
Christian  gentleman,  was  letting  her  look  into  the  depth  of 

103 


FAITH  BRANDON 

his  man's  soul,  with  its  weakness  and  its  strength,  with  its 
sorrows,  its  temptations,  its  deepest  human  affections,  its 
holiest  spiritual  experiences.  Never  could  she  be  quite  the 
child  she  was  before  he  thus  entrusted  her  with  the  secrets 
of  his  soul.  She  knew  instinctively  that  he  was  not  one 
who  weakly  sought  for  sympathy,  or  who  gave  his  confidence 
easily.  She  understood  that  the  one  to  whom  he  thus  bared 
his  heart  was  a  trusted  and  beloved  friend. 

She  longed  to  speak  words  of  comfort  and  of  comprehen- 
sion, but  she  knew  not  how.  Had  he  been  brother,  or  father, 
or  cousin,  she  could  have  slipped  her  hand  into  his;  she 
could  have  murmured  words  of  constant  affection  and  en- 
dearing sympathy.  But  because  he  was  the  dearest  of  all, 
because  he  was  the  one  friend  above  a  thousand,  she  must 
sit  mutely  and  decorously  by,  or  utter  phrases  of  merest 
commonplace.  He  could  not  know  how  her  young  heart 
was  throbbing  with  suppressed  emotion  and  compassion. 

"I  know  a  little  of  how  you  feel,"  she  ventured  to  say  at 
last,  sympathetically.  "I,  too,  lost  my  mother  when  I 
was  about  thirteen;  and  though  we  were  separated  so  much 
during  her  life,  yet  she  still  seems  my  mother,  and  I  talk  to 
her  picture  almost  as  if  I  were  talking  to  her.  Only  last 
night,  when  I  was  in  great  trouble,  it  seemed  as  if  I  could 
hear  her  answering  me." 

"You  were  in  great  trouble  last  night,  Vyera?"  he  asked, 
raising  his  head  and  looking  at  her  attentively.  "Poor 
little,  motherless  child!  Tell  me  about  your  trouble." 

Now,  how  could  she  tell  him  about  it?  He  was  her  good 
friend  and  she  could  tell  him  many  things,  but  certainly 
not  all  that  had  passed  between  herself  and  Genevieve. 
Still,  she  ought  to  let  him  know  something  of  her  faults, 
since  he  had  not  concealed  his  own  from  her. 

"I  behaved  like  a  little  demon  to  my  sister,"  she 
stammered,  at  length.  "I  flew  into  a  rage,  and  I  —  shook 
her  —  with  all  my  might!  " 

104 


THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT 

The  prince's  eyes  opened  wide  in  amazement;  he  stared 
at  her  incredulously,  till  Faith,  very  red  and  shamefaced, 
knew  not  where  to  look.  Then  suddenly,  to  her  utter  sur- 
prise, he  threw  back  his  head  and  burst  into  peal  upon  peal 
of  laughter.  Then  he  leaned  forward  and  laughed  long  and 
heartily  till  he  nearly  choked.  At  last  he  controlled  himself 
and  straightened  up,  wiped  his  eyes,  smoothed  his  mous- 
tache and  turned  toward  her  most  indulgently  and  good- 
humoredly. 

"That  was  very  reprehensible,  Vyera  Karlovna!"  he 
remarked.  "But  you  know  that  you  and  I  are  akin  in  our 
failings.  We  discovered  this  the  very  first  time  that  we 
talked  together.  I,  too,  was  in  a  rage  with  your  sister  last 
evening.  I  did  not  shake  her,  but  I  should  have  liked  to 
do  so.  I  stormed  about  the  hillside  here,  with  murder 
in  my  heart,  for  above  an  hour,  and  hardly  closed  my  eyes 
all  night.  As  for  the  things  I  felt  and  said  this  day,  it  is 
best  you  should  not  know  them.  But,  tell  me! 
What  was  it  roused  the  anger  of  my  gentle  Little 
Comrade?" 

"I  am  not  gentle,"  said  Faith.  "You  do  not  know  my 
faults  any  more  than  I  know  yours.  You  only  think  me 
gentle  because  you  have  been  so  kind  that  I  have  had  no 
temptation  to  be  otherwise." 

"You  do  not  frighten  me  in  the  least,"  he  retorted  smil- 
ingly, squaring  his  sturdy  shoulders.  "You  see  it  would  not 
be  easy  for  you  to  shake  me/  But  you  would  not  be  angry 
without  a  cause.  Are  you  not  going  to  tell  me  what  enraged 
you?" 

Well,  no!  Faith  could  not  tell.  She  shook  her  head  and 
looked  up  rather  appealingly  at  him. 

"I  have  forgotten  to  mention,"  remarked  the  prince, 
"that  late  last  evening  two  books  which  I  had  once  given 
you  were  sent  to  my  room,  together  with  a  few  words,  written 
in  the  third  person,  to  the  effect  that  Miss  F.  Brandon 

105 


FAITH  BRANDON 

returned  them  with  thanks  and  would  accept  no  presents 
from  Prince  Solntsoff." 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Faith.  "I  hope  you  did  not  think  it 
was  I!" 

"I  knew  you  had  no  hand  in  it,"  he  replied  with  convic- 
tion. He  looked  down  at  her  with  a  tender,  sidelong  glance. 
"You  and  I  have  a  good  deal  of  confidence  in  each  other, 
Vyera,"  he  observed. 

"So  it  would  seem,"  agreed  Faith. 

"And  very  wisely  and  reasonably  so,"  he  continued. 
"  We  lo  —  I  mean,  like  each  other  with  our  heads  as  well  as 
our  hearts,  like  sensible,  Christian  friends.  Was  there  any- 
thing else  she  deprived  you  of?" 

The  suddenness  of  the  question  took  Faith's  breath  away. 
When  he  looked  at  her  with  that  bright,  steady  glance  in 
his  keen  blue  eyes,  she  felt  that  they  penetrated  her  inmost 
consciousness  and  made  concealment  impossible. 

"Oh,  one  other  thing,"  she  said,  with  an  attempt  at  easy 
indifference.  "Perhaps  you  remember  once  binding  my 
ankle  with  your  handkerchief?  Well,  I  had  forgotten  — 
that  is  —  er  —  neglected  to  return  it  to  you,  and  she  found 
it  and,  —  well,  —  put  an  effectual  end  to  its  career  as  a 
handkerchief!" 

"I  am  afraid,  Vyera,"  said  the  prince,  gravely,  "that  you 
do  not  take  as  good  care  of  my  things  as  I  do  of  yours." 

"Girls  do  not  have  vest  pockets,"  observed  Faith,  de- 
murely. 

Solntsoff  started  slightly,  grew  a  little  red,  then  the  cor- 
ners of  his  mouth  twitched.  "  I  must  get  even  with  Stourdza 
for  that,"  he  thought.  "I  am  glad,"  he  remarked  aloud, 
"that  I  happened  to  have  forgotten,  er  —  that  is  —  neg- 
lected, to  restore  your  ribbon.  Of  course,  it  is  of  no  practical 
use  to  me  as  a  ribbon,  but  I  shall  keep  it  in  compensation 
for  the  unjust  destruction  of  my  property." 

"But  there  is  no  compensation  for  me,"  said  Faith,  dole- 

106 


THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT 

fully.  "What  am  I  to  remember  you  by  when  they  send 
me  away  to-morrow?"  and  she  burst  into  sudden  tears. 

He  had  done  his  best  to  keep  his  distance,  to  be  self- 
restrained  and  merely  friendly,  but  the  sight  of  her  tears 
was  almost  too  much  for  him.  It  seemed  as  if  he  must 
seize  her  in  his  arms  and  clasp  her  to  his  breast  and  give  her, 
then  and  there,  her  first  lover's  kiss.  Father  Spiridion  had 
said  truly  that  this  innocent  affection  was  something  to  be 
cherished  and  jealously  guarded  with  all  his  manly  strength. 
He  had  turned  impulsively  and  thrown  out  his  arms  toward 
her,  when  he  suddenly  recoiled.  He  had  promised  not  to 
commit  her  to  an  engagement,  and  he  well  knew  that,  to  a 
girl  like  Faith,  a  kiss  would  have  all  the  sacredness  of  be- 
trothal. Nothing  in  his  whole  life  of  self-restraint  had 
seemed  harder  to  him  than  renouncing  the  sweet  caress 
that  might  so  easily  have  been  his. 

He  sprang  up  and  walked  rapidly  back  and  forth  half  a 
dozen  times.  It  was  so  sweet  to  be  loved  with  that  innocent, 
fervent,  loyal  affection!  She  was  so  dear  and  so  true! 
And  he,  who  had  seen  so  much  of  the  falsehood,  the  hollow- 
ness,  the  heartlessness  and  vice  of  the  great-world,  how  he 
prized  this  innocence  and  truth!  He  had  found  a  field  with 
a  treasure  therein,  and  he  would  sell  all  he  had  to  buy  that 
field  and  call  this  treasure  his  own! 

At  last  he  stopped,  and  stood  still  before  her. 

"Faith,  you  make  it  very  hard  for  me.  Please  try,  for 
my  sake,  to  stop  crying." 

The  appeal  had  the  instant  effect  that  he  had  foreseen. 
She  controlled  herself  at  once,  stood  up  bravely,  wiped  her 
eyes  and  did  her  best  to  smile. 

"Excuse  me!"  she  begged.  "I  am  so  selfish!  I  was 
thinking  only  of  my  own  trouble.  I  did  not  know  it  would 
be  hard  for  you,  too." 

"But  from  now  on  you  must  remember  that  everything 
which  concerns  you  affects  your  Big  Friend's  happiness  also," 

107 


FAITH  BRANDON 

said  the  prince,  with  great  decision.  "  However,  we  must  not 
be  too  angry  with  your  sister,"  he  added.  "From  her  point 
of  view  she  is  entirely  right  in  withdrawing  you  from  the 
society  of  a  man  she  believes  to  be  unprincipled,  and  in 
demanding  something  more  than  his  own  unsupported  as- 
sertions of  rectitude.  I  have  a  plain  duty  toward  both 
you  and  your  family.  I  must  prove  to  their  satisfaction 
that  I  am  not  unworthy  of  your  further  friendship.  I  shall 
communicate  with  your  brother  and  ask  him  to  make  all 
fitting  inquiries  about  my  character  and  position,  to  deter- 
mine if  I  am  a  proper  person  to  be  allowed  to  visit  and  corre- 
spond with  you." 

"Correspond? "cried  Faith,  joyfully.  "Oh,  shall  I  hear 
from  you?  I  am  so  glad  you  want  to  correspond  with  me! 
I  was  afraid  you  would  forget  all  about  the  little  girl  you 
were  once  so  kind  to,  and  that  after  you  returned  to  St. 
Petersburg  I  might  never  see  or  hear  from  you  again!" 

"I  never  thought  of  that  possibility,"  he  remarked,  dryly. 
"I  have  tormented  myself  for  fear  you  might  forget  your 
childish,  passing  fancy  for  an  older  man  who  had  interested 
himself  in  you,  and  that  you  might  meet  younger,  more 
attractive  men  who  would  make  you  wonder  that  you  could 
ever  have  cared  for  the  big  Polar  bear!  But  never  did  the 
possibility  that  I  could  forget  my  Little  Comrade  enter  my 
mind.  You  see,"  he  added,  "I  am  so  much  older,  so  much 
more  settled  in  my  ways  and  feelings,  that  if  I,  at  my  age, 
form  an  attachment,  I  am  not  as  likely  to  get  over  it  as  you 
are  at  your  age." 

"I  shall  not  get  over  it,"  said  Faith,  confidently. 

"But,"  continued  the  prince,  "I  must  not  take  advantage 
of  your  sweet  faith  in  me,  when  my  character  has  been 
called  in  question  by  one  who  knows  more  of  life  and  the 
world  than  you.  Thank  God,  I  am  not  unworthy  of  your 
trust,  still  you  might  easily  be  deceived  in  me.  It  is  right 
that  you  should  have  the  judgment  of  others  to  rely  on, 

108 


THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT 

that  is,  as  far  as  my  character  goes.  Your  brother,  I  think, 
will  kindly  vouch  for  me.  As  for  possible  prejudice  against 
my  country  and  my  religion,  those  are  questions  of  personal 
taste  and  individual  conscience  which  you  have  a  perfect 
right  to  decide  for  yourself.  No  one,  not  even  a  father,  can 
assume  the  responsibility  for  your  soul's  salvation  or  your 
heart's  desire.  So,  you  see,  if  I  can  satisfy  him  about  my 
character,  the  rest  will  depend  upon  you." 

Faith  looked  puzzled.  "What  will  depend  upon  me?" 
she  asked,  timidly. 

He  started  a  little  and  smiled.  "To  be  sure,"  he  said, 
pleasantly,  "I  am  putting  the  cart  before  the  horse!  It 
is  all  so  plain  to  me  that  I  forgot  you  would  not  know  what 
I  was  driving  at!  You  see,  Vyera,  you  are  very  young,  and 
there  is  much  for  you  to  consider  —  more  than  most  women 
have  to  consider  or  most  men  to  ask;  but,"  very  tenderly, 
"I  want  you  to  be  thinking  while  we  are  separated  from  one 
another,  whether,  when  you  grow  up,  you  can  some  day 
care  enough  for  this  Big  Friend  to  give  up  your  country  for 
his,  whether  you  can  learn  to  love  the  Orthodox  faith  that 
he  loves,  to  worship  as  he  worships,  to  become  one  of  his 
people,  and  the  dearest  comrade  of  his  whole  life?  You 
will  think  over  it  for  my  sake,  will  you  not,  since  it  is  the 
wish  of  my  heart?  " 

He  looked  searchingly  into  her  averted  face.  He  could 
make  out  that  she  was  very  pale  and  grave;  but  her  head 
drooped  low  and  she  threw  the  back  of  her  hand  across  her 
eyes  with  a  childish  gesture. 

"Vyerochka,  little  dove!  Have  I  frightened  you?"  he 
asked  in  great  anxiety.  "Has  the  big  man  been  too  serious?  " 

"No,  no,"  she  whispered  at  last,  looking  up  with  timid, 
but  adoring  eyes.  How  wonderful,  how  beautiful  it  was 
that  he  should  care  for  her  in  this  way!  Yet  how  could 
she  ever  fulfil  his  expectations  or  live  up  to  his  ideals? 

"But,"  she  said,  hesitatingly,  "I  am  so  afraid  I  may  dis- 

109 


FAITH  BRANDON 

appoint  you!  I  may  turn  out  quite  different  from  what  you 
expect  when  I  grow  up.  Of  course  I  am  very,  very  happy 
that  you  like  me " 

"I  should  think,"  he  interrupted,  "that  in  this  case  it 
would  be  perfectly  correct  English  to  say  'love'  instead  of 
'like'." 

She  smiled  shyly  and  raised  her  head  a  little.  "I  haven't 
much  self-confidence,"  she  apologized.  "I  shall  be  so  afraid 
it  is  all  a  mistake  that  it  will  be  hard  to  convince  me  that  you 
really  want  me.  I  am  afraid  that  when  you  see  me  grown 
up  you  will  be  disappointed  in  me,  and  yet  you  will  not 
wish  to  tell  me  so  for  fear  of  hurting  my  feelings.  I  could 
not  be  happy,  then." 

"Neither  could  I  be  happy  if  you  accepted  me  from  pity, " 
he  said,  decidedly.  "Faith,  Little  Comrade,  let  us  leave  it 
this  way  for  the  present.  We  will  simply  both  be  thinking 
over  it  till  you  are  old  enough  to  decide  for  yourself.  Then, 
when  the  time  comes,  we  will  talk  it  over  like  true  friends 
who  must  consider  their  duty  to  themselves,  to  each  other, 
and  to  God.  We  will  pledge  each  other  to  speak  the  abso- 
lute truth,  even  if  it  hurts  a  little,  having  confidence  in  each 
other's  good  sense,  courage  and  self-respect.  Will  this 
understanding  be  satisfactory?" 

"Oh, yes — er  —  quite  satisfactory,  thank  you,"  whispered 
Faith. 

All  at  once  she  started  guiltily  and  grew  pale.  "Oh,  I 
must  go  home,"  she  cried,  nervously.  "I  hear  horses  in 
the  distance;  it  must  be  my  sister's  carriage.  I  ought  to 
have  been  in  bed  long  ago.  What  will  Genevieve  say?" 

"  She  may  go  to  the  devil ! "  muttered  the  prince  inwardly. 
All  the  scrupulous  delicacy  and  conventional  prudence  of  his 
conduct  suddenly  seemed  to  him  the  veriest  nonsense  in 
face  of  the  reality  of  resigning  Faith  to  the  tender  mercies 
of  her  stepsister.  Good  God!  Why  must  she  be  submit- 
ted to  that? 

no 


THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT 

"We  will  face  the  music  together,"  he  said  aloud,  offering 
her  his  arm,  which  she  accepted  with  a  little  flutter  of  hesita- 
tion. It  was  so  nice  to  walk  beside  him,  with  her  hand 
securely  sheltered  within  his  strong  arm,  so  nice  that  it 
seemed  almost  as  if  it  must  be  wrong ! 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  hoof  beats.  It  was 
not  a  carriage  they  had  heard,  but  a  saddle-horse 
coming  slowly  up  the  hill.  Solntsoff  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  Commonsense  and  conventionality  resumed 
their  sway,  and  visions  of  defiance  and  elopement  faded 
away.  After  all,  he  was  pursuing  the  right  and  manly 
course. 

"There  is  one  promise  I  wish  you  to  make  me,"  added  the 
prince,  very  earnestly.  "Faith,  Little  Comrade,  it  is  pos- 
sible that  they  may  some  day  try  to  make  you  think  that  it 
is  your  duty  to  sacrifice  your  happiness  to  my  good,  or  the 
good  of  others.  Yet  this  might  be  a  very  false  idea,  which 
would  only  wreck  both  our  lives,  and  for  no  purpose.  Prom- 
ise me,  that  if  any  such  doubts  or  scruples  should  arise 
you  will  confide  them  in  me,  and  let  me  help  you  to 
decide." 

"Why,  certainly!"  said  Faith,  surprised.  "That  would 
be  the  only  fair  way  to  do.  You  are  the  best  judge  of  what 
is  for  your  own  good." 

"Sensible  girl!"  he  said  approvingly,  and  in  secret  he  gave 
a  sigh  of  relief.  Faith  was  as  true  as  steel,  but  she  was 
scrupulous  and  timid,  and  capable  of  utter  self-abnegation 
for  those  she  loved.  He  had  dreaded  lest  her  sister  should 
work  on  her  pathetic  conscientiousness  to  make  her  give  up 
the  idea  of  marriage  on  account  of  her  possible  inheritance; 
but  since  she  saw  so  clearly  the  justice  of  consulting 
with  him  before  making  any  sacrifice  his  mind  was  at 
ease. 

"And  remember,  Little  Comrade,"  he  added,  "that  you 
are  free,  absolutely  free!  Even  to  fall  in  love  with  some  other 

in 


FAITH  BRANDON 

fellow  when  you  grow  up,  if  the  fancy  seizes  you,"  and  he 
laughed,  jestingly. 

Faith  shook  her  head,  confidently.  "No  one  shall  ever 
come  between  us!"  she  declared. 

***** 

Through  the  gray  mist  that  enveloped  the  hillside  the 
sound  of  the  regular  fall  of  a  horse's  hoofs  came  nearer  and 
nearer  upon  the  flinty  road.  Keeping  time  with  the  hoof- 
beats  they  could  hear  the  tones  of  a  rich,  manly  voice  singing 
with  mellow  and  cultivated  art  an  air  of  haunting  melody, 
of  rhythmic,  lilting  melody,  wild,  strange  and  lovely, 
full  of  irresistible  swing  and  fire,  yet  with  an  underlying 
pathos  that  pierced  to  the  very  soul. 

"Listen!"  whispered  Faith,  looking  inquiringly  up  at! 
her  companion. 

"It  is  the  Kozak  lover's  war  song,"  he  whispered  in 
reply.  "It  tells  of  the  wounded  Kozak  returning  from 
victory  to  find  his  sweetheart  true,  but  his  mother 
dead.  It  is  a  song  of  triumph  and  pain,  of  love  and 
prayer!" 

From  the  cloud  of  mist  a  horseman  rode  into  the  semi- 
obscurity  of  the  path  in  front  of  them.  He  was  in  uniform, 
his  officer's  cloak  hanging  loosely  about  him,  the  visor  of 
his  fourdzh  shading  his  eyes.  His  song  ceased  and  he  roused 
himself  from  his  careless,  dreamy  attitude.  He  could  dimly 
discern  two  figures,  a  man  and  a  girl,  standing  together  under 
the  shadow  of  the  moisture-laden  trees  by  the  gate.  Doubt- 
less a  soldier-lover  and  his  lass! 

"Zdordw,  Rebydtal  Good  cheer,  my  children!"  he  called 
out,  in  the  hearty,  jovial  greeting  of  the  Russian  officer  to 
his  men,  lifting  his  cap  and  bending  his  head  courteously 
nearly  to  the  saddle-bow.  For  a  woman  is  a  woman, 
though  she  be  but  a  soldier-lad's  sweetheart,  and  the 
soldier-lad,  himself,  is  a  man  and  a  brother  before  great 
Mother  Nature.  Then,  touching  spurs  to  his  horse,  he 

112 


THE  COMING  OF  LANCELOT 

cantered  along  the  road  to  the  stables  at  the  rear  of 
the  hotel. 

Faith  could  catch  only  the  merest  glimpse  of  a  gallant, 
picturesque,  soldierly  figure. 

"Gedrgiy  Pobyedondsets,  St.  George  the  Victorious!"  mut- 
tered the  prince,  and  he  frowned. 


CHAPTER  IX 


MR.    LIONEL    PIERSON 

"I  cannot  lose  thee  for  a  day, 

But,  like  a  bird  with  restless  wing, 
My  heart  will  find  thee  far  away 
And  on  thy  bosom  fall  and  sing 
'My  nest  is  here!     My  rest  is  here!' 
And  in  the  lull  of  storm  and  rain 
Fresh  voices  make  a  sweet  refrain, 
'His  rest  is  there!    His  nest  is  there!'" 

—  Meredith. 

THE  Right  Reverend  Wilfred  Ludlow,  Bishop  of  Wrox- 
eter,  had  recently  passed  through  an  ordeal  such  as  tries 
the  souls  of  bishops,  a  conflict  in  the  Episcopal  Convention 
in  which  all  his  pet  measures,  such  as  the  change  of  name 
from  "The  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  of  America" 
to  "The  American  Catholic  Church,"  reunion  with  the 
Greek  Orthodox  churches  of  the  Orient,  the  recognition 
in  the  Prayer  Book  of  other  sacraments  beside  the  "two, 
generally  necessary  to  salvation,"  and  the  compiling  of 
a  ritual  for  the  anointing  of  the  sick,  had  been  crushingly 
defeated  or  ignominiously  relegated  to  committees.  The 
whole  convention,  the  good  bishop  felt,  had  been  a  defeat 
for  what  he  termed  "Catholic"  principles,  and  a  sweeping 
victory  for  the  most  pronouncedly  Protestant  element  in 
the  Church.  His  summer  trip  to  Greece  and  Constanti- 
nople, which  he  had  hoped  would  advance  the  cause  of 
church  union,  had  been  another  source  of  annoyance.  He 
had  met  scant  encouragement  from  the  local  Orthodox 
synods,  who  took  no  interest  in  Corporate  Reunion,  were 
suspicious  of  Occidental  methods  and  doubtful  of  Anglican 
Orders.  The  obstinate  conservatism,  the  ignorance  and 

114 


MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON 

prejudice  of  the  Greek  Orthodox  ecclesiastics  were  most 
irritating  to  one  who  had  the  Catholic  interests  of  the 
Church  so  much  at  heart  as  our  good  bishop! 

Amid  all  this  trouble  and  despondency  had  appeared 
a  new  cloud  upon  the  horizon.  A  letter  from  Miss  Bran- 
don notified  him  that  his  niece,  his  own  sister's  child,  a 
mere  baby,  had  become  infatuated  with  a  foreigner,  and 
of  all  foreigners,  a  Russian,  a  certain  Prince  Solntsoff, 
adventurer  and  libertine;  so  foolishly  and  openly  infatuated 
that  Miss  Brandon  was  now  arranging  to  hurry  the  girl 
away  secretly  to  a  boarding  school  in  Germany,  where  she 
would  be  under  strict  supervision.  There  was  no  time  to 
consult  Faith's  father,  now  in  South  Africa,  studying  the 
vagaries  of  a  new  comet.  What  was  to  be  done  must  be 
done  immediately.  She  had  had  to  assume  the  entire  re- 
sponsibility and  act  at  once  before  the  girl  was  com- 
promised. 

"This  is  terrible,  terrible!"  groaned  the  bishop.  "My 
only  niece,  the  only  little  daughter  of  my  favorite  sister, 
and  brought  up  in  the  Ludlow  home!  Charles  Brandon 
never  did  take  the  slightest  responsibility  about  his  child, 
except  to  get  her  away  from  the  safety  and  shelter  of  the 
Ludlow  home  and  let  her  run  wild  for  two  or  three  years. 
They  are  rovers,  all  those  Brandons,  and  Unitarians  to 
boot.  I  wish  they  were  all  on  one  of  his  planets!  What 
possessed  me  to  name  my  son  after  the  Brandon  side  of  the 
family?" 

Brandon  Ludlow  had  accompanied  his  father  to  Athens 
and  Constantinople,  where  they  had  visited  the  bishop's 
nephew,  Rupert  Milbanke,  while  the  bishop  conferred  with 
the  Greek  Patriarch.  They  were  now  pacing  the  deck  of 
the  Black  Sea  steamer,  as  it  was  sailing  from  Constanti- 
nople to  Odessa  *  on  a  glorious  October  afternoon. 

"It  is  a  thousand  pities  about  Faithie!"  said  the  clean- 

*  Pronounced  Ahd-yes'-sah. 

"S 


FAITH  BRANDON 

shaven,  young  football  hero.  "She  is  the  only  girl  cousin 
I  have,  and  she  was  so  jolly,  precocious  and  companion- 
able. Though  I  was  four  years  older  I  really  used  to  enjoy 
talking  and  romping  with  her  at  Aunt  Ludlows'.  To  think 
she  is  sixteen  now,  and  in  love!  It  seems  absurd." 

"Absurd?  It  is  criminal!"  cried  the  irritated  bishop, 
with  pious  exaggeration.  "A  Russian  adventurer  and 
schismatic!  With  our  sturdy  Anglo-Saxon  ideals  it  is  a 
most  repulsive  thought.  Miss  Brandon  is  quite  right. 
The  child  must  go  back  to  school.  Those  foreign  friends 
of  Milbanke's  that  she  had  been  left  with  were  Romanists, 
it  seems.  For  heaven's  sake!  What  could  Rupert  have 
been  thinking  of?  My  niece  under  the  influence  of  Ro- 
manists! I  wish  I  had  known  that  before  we  left  Con- 
stantinople. I  would  have  taken  him  to  task  for  it.  I 
am  glad  I  telegraphed -Miss  Brandon  to  have  the  child 
meet  us  at  Odessa.  I  shall  have  the  opportunity  to  correct 
any  false  opinions  she  may  have  acquired." 

"I  don't  see  how  she  could  have  chosen  anything  worse," 
shuddered  young  Ludlow.  "Of  all  barbarous  and  impos- 
sible countries!" 

"Don't  speak  of  it!"  groaned  his  father.  "A  niece  of 
mine!  The  Latin  races  are  bad  enough,  but  at  least  I 
have  some  knowledge  of  them.  With  all  their  moral  faults 
they  have  intellectual  and  social  gifts,  though  of  course 
their  Romanism  puts  them  out  of  the  question.  But  the 
Slavic  races  I  know  absolutely  nothing  about.  They  are 
utterly  antipathetic  to  me.  International  marriages  are 
repugnant  from  any  point  of  view;  but,  if  she  must  fall  in 
love  with  a  foreigner,  why  could  she  not  have  lost  her  heart 
to  some  attractive  young  Englishman,  as  her  mother  did? 
If  an  American  gentleman,  with  all  the  word  implies,  isn't 
good  enough  for  her,  then  let  her  choose  one  of  the  same 
Anglo-Saxon  stock,  with  the  religion,  the  ideals,  the  culture, 
the  manhood  that  it  represents." 

116 


MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON 

"But,  sir,  I  don't  think  we  need  worry,"  said  the  son, 
consolingly.  "Time  and  separation  will  make  it  all  right. 
Faith  will  forget  this  man  inside  of  six  months." 

"I  am  not  so  sure,"  said  the  bishop,  doubtingly.  "Wo- 
men are  tenacious,  especially  when  they  are  opposed. 
Look  at  your  Aunt  Adele,  wearing  black  to  this  day  for  a 
lover  who  died  thirty-five  years  ago,  and  who  had  jilted 
her  and  married  another  woman  three  months  before  he 
died!" 

"But  there  is  Aunt  Brandon,"  suggested  young  Ludlow. 
"Faith's  own  mother  could  forget  her  first  love  and  make  a 
second  marriage." 

"Yes,  and  a  pretty  mess  she  made  of  it!"  growled  the 
departed  Mrs.  Brandon's  brother.  "A  man  who  can't 
see  an  inch  before  his  nose  except  when  he  looks  through  a 
telescope,  and  then  sees  a  lot  of  things  that  are  not  there. 
Dragging  that  gifted,  cultivated  woman  off  to  exile  in 
God-forsaken  countries,  when  she  might  have  been  a  bril- 
liant ornament  to  Boston  society,  and  might  be  alive  to-day 
to  look  after  her  own  child!" 

"I  wish  there  were  some  American  fellows  over  here  that 
I  could  introduce  to  Faithie,"  said  Brandon  Ludlow,  thought- 
fully. 

"There's  something  in  that,"  agreed  the  bishop,  with 
the  air  of  one  considering  a  desperate  remedy.  "I  don't 
know  anything  about  match-making,  but  there  are  cases 
where  I  believe  it  is  a  good  thing.  The  truth  is,  Rupert 
ought  to  marry  again  and  give  Faith  a  home,  as  long  as 
Charles  Brandon  goes  gallivanting  about  with  his  mind  on 
every  other  planet  than  the  one  he  and  his  child  live  on. 
She  would  then  be  introduced  to  all  that  is  best  in  English 
society.  But  the  trouble  is,  Brandon,  that  Rupert  is  not 
as  upset  over  this  affair  as  we  are.  He  actually  seemed  to 
consider  it  as  a  possibility!  You  see,  these  diplomats  come 
so  much  in  contact  with  foreigners  that  they  gradually 

117 


FAITH  BRANDON 

lose  their  natural  abhorrence  of  them.  Now,  I  am  Anglo- 
Saxon  to  the  core.  Give  me,  always  and  everywhere,  the 
Anglo-Saxon  race!" 

Just  at  that  moment  a  party  of  loud-voiced  British  tour- 
ists of  the  aggressive,  red-faced,  John  Bull  type  pushed  rudely 
and  noisily  by. 

The  bishop  hemmed  and  hawed,  drew  himself  to  his  full 
height,  and  displayed  with  fine  effect  the  expanse  of  black 
silk  vest,  straight  Roman  collar,  massive  gold  cross  and  chain, 
the  knee  breeches,  silk  stockings  and  buckled  shoes  which, 
when  in  England,  had  usually  won  for  him  a  deferential 
"My  Lord!"  But  these  barbarians  jolted  him  without 
respect  to  the  cloth,  elbowing  their  way  between  him  and 
the  landscape,  shutting  out  the  view  and  drowning  his  voice. 

"Non-conformists!"  gasped  the  indignant  ecclesiastic. 
"They  have  no  regard  for  the  hierarchy!  What  are  we 
coming  to?  Brandon,  tell  them  who  I  am!" 

"Oh,  I  wouldn't,  sir!"  said  his  son,  soothingly.  "They 
are,  as  you  say,  Non-conformists,  undoubtedly.  Come  this 
way,  sir.  You  can  see  the  coast  better  from  the  other 
quarter." 

The  bishop,  who  had  not  given  a  thought  to  the  view  for 
the  last  half-hour,  was  now  obsessed  with  a  desire  to  watch 
it  from  the  particular  coign  of  vantage  from  which  he  had 
been  displaced.  But  he  allowed  himself  to  be  soothed  and 
led  away  by  his  son. 

"Look,  sir!  There  are  two  splendid  specimens  of  the 
English  race!  I  have  had  my  eye  on  them  for  some  time. 
Now,  why  couldn't  Faith  meet  and  fancy  something  like 
that?"  and  Brandon  gazed  in  admiration  at  two  tall  figures 
standing  by  the  railing  at  a  short  distance  from  themselves. 

"Yes,  yes!  Good  representatives  of  the  best  Anglo- 
Saxon  type,"  agreed  the  bishop,  nodding  approvingly 
toward  the  specimens. 

"It  is  wonderful  how  they  carry  off  their  clothes,"  said  the 
118 


MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON 

envious  Brandon.  "There  is  no  mistaking  the  English 
gentleman.  They  have  such  an  easy,  careless  air,  as  if  they 
gave  no  thought  to  what  they  wore,  and  yet  there  isn't  a 
European  or  even  an  American,  I  don't  care  who  his  tailor 
is,  who  can  approach  them  in  style." 

"Typical  Anglo-Saxon!"  repeated  the  bishop,  admiringly. 
"One  is  a  little  dark  in  coloring,  but  it  is  the  brown-haired, 
blue  or  gray-eyed  type  of  Englishman  that  has  an  admixture 
of  old  Norman  blood.  He  is  an  athlete,  lean  and  powerful, 
very  aristocratic,  with  a  touch  of  the  military.  Probably 
in  the  Coldstream  Guards." 

"Such  clothes!"  sighed  Brandon.    "Simply  ripping!" 

"The  other,"  mused  the  bishop,  "is  less  aggressively  the 
Briton,  more  cosmopolitan,  but  essentially  Anglo-Saxon  as 
distinct  from  Anglo-Norman.  He  is  typical  of  the  univer- 
sity man,  scholar  and  athlete  combined,  such  as  only  the 
English  public  school  and  university  produce." 

"He  is  not  as  handsome  as  the  other,  by  far,"  objected 
young  Ludlow. 

"His  bearing  is,  I  think,  superior  in  grace  and  poise," 
replied  his  father.  "He  is  of  pure  Saxon  type,  the  type  of 
scholar  and  gentleman,  polished  perhaps  by  travel,  perhaps 
by  the  attrition  of  public  life.  The  other  is  more  of  the 
conquering  Norman  blood,  energetic,  ambitious,  in  the 
plenitude  of  physical  vigor.  Splendid  types,  both  of  them, 
of  the  race  that  rules  the  modern  world." 

Half  an  hour  later  the  bishop  sought  out  his  son,  who  had 
retired  to  the  smoking  room.  "I  have  been  having  a  little 
chat  with  our  Anglo-Saxon  friend,"  he  said.  "I  find  him 
a  most  fascinating  man,  a  delightful  talker,  widely  read  and  a 
forceful  thinker.  And  under  all  his  cultivation  and  charm 
there  is  evidence  of  solid  principle,  right  habits  of  thought 
and  action,  and  reverence  for  God  and  humanity.  He  made 
a  deep  impression  on  me.  He  sees  many  things  from  just 
my  point  of  view." 

119 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"I  was  sure  he  must  have  agreed  with  Dad  !"  thought  the 
irreverent  son. 

"If  such  a  young  man  would  only  take  a  fancy  to  my 
niece  what  a  difference  it  would  make  in  Faith's  future!" 
declared  the  bishop,  now  thoroughly  infected  with  the 
match-making  germ.  "He  is  going  to  stop  in  Odessa. 
If  only  they  could  be  brought  together  somehow!" 

"But,  sir,  we  really  know  nothing  about  him,"  objected 
the  younger  man. 

"I  know  the  essentials,"  insisted  the  bishop.  "I  cannot 
mistake  the  gentleman,  the  Christian,  the  man  of  principle, 
breeding,  and  intellect.  I  think  he  must  either  be  a  diplomat 
or  have  traveled  much,  for  he  has  the  intonation  of  one 
accustomed  to  foreign  languages,  and  also  a  certain  cosmo- 
politan breadth  and  polish  rare  among  the  British,  but 
which,  when  applied  to  good  Anglo-Saxon  stock  and  tradi- 
tions, produce  their  best,  most  gracious  development." 

Toward  sunset  they  had  gathered  their  belongings  and 
were  watching  the  imposing  panorama  of  the  approach  to 
Odessa,  the  stately  granite  stairway  and  terraces,  the  wide 
avenues,  the  superb  monuments  and  public  buildings,  the 
handsome  embankments  and  esplanades  of  the  wealthy 
modern  city.  The  tall,  fair  Saxon  was  half-leaning,  half- 
sitting  on  the  steamer  rail,  his  hat  .off,  his  wavy,  golden- 
brown  hair  tossed  by  the  breeze,  his  strong,  spirited,  clear-cut 
profile  outlined  against  the  sunset  tints  of  the  autumnal 
sky.  The  expression  of  his  face  at  that  moment  was  dreamy 
and  tender,  his  pose  easy  and  graceful,  and  he  made  a 
poetic,  picturesque  figure  as  he  lounged  there,  motionless, 
reposeful,  half  in  shadow,  half  in  the  rosy  glow  of  the  short, 
October  twilight. 

The  Anglo-Norman,  erect,  soldierly  and  elegant,  stepped 
aside  to  avoid  the  crowd  and  found  himself  next  to  Bishop 
Ludlow  and  his  son.  He  bowed  with  genial  courtesy.  The 
bishop  made  some  commonplace  remark  on  the  scenery, 

120 


MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON 

to  which  the  newcomer  replied  in  monosyllables,  though 
cordially  enough  in  manner.  At  the  next  remark,  however, 
he  took  off  his  hat  and  bowing  very  apologetically  begged, 
in  exquisite  French,  to  be  excused  from  replying  in  English, 
as  he  had  only  a  reading  knowledge  of  the  language  and 
feared  that  he  could  not  pronounce  it  intelligibly. 

The  bishop  and  his  son  stared  at  one  another  blankly! 

"I  made  the  mistake  to  think  you  an  Englishman," 
began  the  bishop  in  his  academic  French.  Then,  with  a 
gesture  of  despair,  he  turned  to  his  son.  "I  am  no  French 
scholar.  Please  explain  to  this  gentleman,  Brandon." 

"Brandon!"  exclaimed  the  handsome  stranger,  with  a 
quick  glance  of  inquiry  from  one  to  the  other.  "Permit  me 
to  ask  if  you  are  related  to  the  family  of  Mr.  Milbanke,  the 
British  Charge  d' Affaires  at  Constantinople?  " 

"He  is  my  cousin,"  said  Brandon.  "Our  family  name  is 
Ludlow,  and  his  mother  and  my  father  were  brother  and 
sister." 

"Ah,  this  is  a  happy  chance!  We  have  just  been  visiting 
Mr.  Milbanke,  who  told  us  we  should  meet  his  uncle  at 
Odessa,  but  we  thought  you  had  gone  by  yesterday's 
boat." 

"I  was  detained  by  ecclesiastical  affairs,"  said  the  bishop 
in  his  labored  French.  "I  was  ignorant  that  I  was  to  meet 
friends  of  my  nephew." 

The  brilliant  gray  eyes  of  the  handsome  stranger  were 
all  alight  with  laughter.  With  a  courteous  "Excuse  me!" 
he  turned  from  them  and  approached  the  reposeful  figure 
dreaming  in  the  twilight. 

The  big,  shapely  Saxon  arose  at  once  and  returned  with  his 
friend  to  where  the  two  Americans  were.  His  face  had  grown 
somewhat  pale  and  grave,  but  he  stood,  hat  in  hand,  bowing 
courteously. 

"I  feel  that  I  am  most  fortunate  in  this  unexpected  meet- 
ing," he  said,  in  his  melodious  English.  Then  he  waited. 

121 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"You  have  the  advantage  of  me,"  said  the  bishop  at  last. 
"May  I  ask  to  whom  I  have  the  honor  of  speaking?" 

"Oh,  pardon!"  interrupted  the  dark-haired  man.  "I 
have  explained  nothing  to  these  gentlemen.  You  must 
introduce  yourself,  my  friend." 

A  half-smile  lighted  up  the  strong,  fair  face  of  the  other. 

"I  am  Prince  Solntsoff  of  St.  Petersburg,"  he  said,  simply. 

Faith's  demeanor  on  the  morning  of  her  departure  from 
Yalta  had  been  inexplicable  to  Genevieve  Brandon.  In- 
stead of  pouting  and  fretting,  as  might  have  been  expected, 
she  was  composed,  amiable,  with  smiling  lips  and  shining 
eyes.  Genevieve  did  not  let  her  out  of  her  sight  from  the 
moment  she  rose  till  the  mail-coach  had  safely  started.  She 
piled  tasks  upon  her,  yet  met  with  no  complaint,  no  rebellion, 
but  always  a  sweet,  cheerful  acquiescence. 

"She  cannot  have  had  any  communication  with  him," 
thought  the  sister.  "Sophy  says  he  did  not  come  over  last 
evening,  and  that  Faith  could  not  possibly  have  left  the  house 
without  her  knowledge.  I  have  questioned  the  porter  and 
the  maids,  and  they  all  say  there  was  no  note  or  message 
left  for  her.  Apparently  Solntsoff  has  given  up  his  little 
flirtation,  just  as  I  thought  he  would.  Not  an  effort  has 
he  made  to  reach  her!  Now  it  remains  to  be  seen  if  he 
comes  to  call  after  she  is  safely  out  of  the  way." 

Poor  Sophy!  It  was  a  truly  painful  compromise  that  she 
had  compounded  with  her  conscience  for  Faith's  sake.  But 
she  had  done  unto  another  as  she  would  others  should  do 
unto  her  in  like  circumstances,  and  what  better  rule  of 
conduct  can  one  follow  than  the  Golden  Rule? 

As  the  mail-coach  drove  out  of  the  Livadia  road,  past  the 
summer  palace  of  the  Emperor,  Faith  took  her  last  look 
at  the  hills  of  Yalta,  and  her  young  heart  was  full  of  grati- 
tude. How  different,  how  sadly  different  it  would  be  if 
she  were  leaving  without  having  had  that  precious  last 

122 


MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON 

talk  with  her  "Big  Friend!"  It  seemed  to  her  now  that 
even  if  she  never  saw  him  again,  even  if  he  were  to 
die,  or  were  to  marry  somebody  else,  her  life  could 
never  be  wholly  unhappy,  since  such  a  man  had  once 
esteemed  and  liked  her  enough  to  care  to  win  the  right 
to  her  friendship,  and  to  think  of  her  as  his  possible  future 
wife.  It  gave  an  added  dignity  and  seriousness  to  her 
character. 

Lady  Bo  wen  was  somewhat  stiff,  stolid  and  uncom- 
municative at  first;  but  Faith's  polite,  attentive  manner 
and  cheery,  sensible  way  of  meeting  all  the  little  annoyances 
of  travel  gradually  made  an  impression  on  that  British 
matron's  heart.  They  had  taken  the  picturesque,  inland 
route  from  Yalta  to  Sevastopol,  and  from  thence  made  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  famous  battlefields  of  the  Crimean  War, 
where  Faith  further  heightened  the  good  impression  by 
her  familiarity  with  the  details  of  the  conflict.  From 
Sevastopol  they  continued  by  sea  to  Odessa,  where  Bishop 
Ludlow's  telegram  reached  them.  Lady  Bowen  was  not 
averse  to  breaking  the  long  journey,  and  the  handsome 
modern  town,  with  its  half-million  inhabitants,  its  unri- 
valed sea  view,  its  splendid  promenades  and  pleasure  gar- 
dens made  an  agreeable  resting  place. 

The  second  day  brought  Faith  a  letter  from  Rupert 
Milbanke. 

'DEAR  Sis!  (wrote  the  brother) 

"Knyaz  Solntsoff  has  just  come  over  from  Yalta  to  see 
me.  It  is  a  great  compliment  to  you  that  so  fine  and  clever 
a  man  should  care  to  correspond  with  so  young  a  girl.  What 
on  earth  he  sees  in  you!  Well,  never  mind  his  vagaries! 
There's  a  queer  streak  in  every  genius!  I  jolly  hate  to 
disappoint  you  both;  but,  really,  you  know  I  am  only  half 
of  your  guardian,  the  other  half  (with  all  due  respect  to 
your  honored  governor)  is  your  blooming  stepsister.  I 
wish  she  was  a  step-farther!  She  has  got  your  uncle  and 
spiritual  guardian,  the  bishop,  all  worked  up  about  you. 

123 


FAITH  BRANDON 

I  "assured  him  Solntsoff's  morals  were  as  good  as  my  own, 
but  he  only  looked  at  me  as  if  he  thought  there  must,  then, 
be  a  screw  loose  about  mine.  If  I  had  seen  Solntsoff  before 
seeing  the  bishop  I  should  have  given  him  my  blessing, 
and  told  you  to  go  ahead  and  correspond  all  you  wished. 
But  what  with  his  lordship's  holy  horror  of  the  Slavic  race, 
and  your  cousin's  rampant  Americanism,  and  your  sister's 
strenuous  opposition  to  one  she  is  pleased  to  consider  a  Don 
Juan,  discretion  tells  me  not  to  antagonize  so  many  by  giving 
you  direct  encouragement  under  the  present  circumstances. 
Solntsoff  is  very  sensible.  He  understands  the  difficulties 
and  acquiesces  in  my  decision,  and  is  quite  as  anxious  as  I 
that  you  should  do  everything  decorously.  However,  he 
is  going  to  try  to  catch  the  bishop  at  Odessa  and  soften  his 
heart.  If  his  lordship  can  be  got  to  consent  to  a  correspon- 
dence, be  sure  of  your  brother's  good-will.  For  the  rest 
the  future  must  take  care  of  itself. 

"I  am  to  be  sent  to  Brussels  next  spring.  Aren't  you 
sorry  that  it  isn't  St.  Petersburg?  However,  I  do  not  wish 
you  to  get  too  fond  of  Russia.  There  are  some  awfully 
nice  chaps  in  England!  Besides,  I  need  you  to  help  me  try 
and  make  some  kind  of  a  home  for  us  all  this  next  year. 
I  must  have  my  babies.  They  have  been  with  their  grand- 
mother long  enough,  and  poor  Amy  always  wanted  you  to 
live  with  us.  I  shall  have  them  and  you  with  me,  and  put 
some  respectable  old  she-dragon  of  a  duenna  in  charge 
of  us  all.  Ah,  me! 

"Your  loving,  lonely  brother, 
"RUPERT." 

Faith  understood  the  sigh,  and  her  heart  bled  for  him. 
She  had  seen  her  sister-in-law  only  once,  but  she  felt  that 
when  so  sweet  and  upright  a  young  woman  had  nestled  in 
a  man's  heart  he  would  not  easily  forget  her,  or  care  soon 
to  give  his  boys  a  second  mother. 

But  now  her  cup  of  happiness  was  full.  How  she  laughed 
with  delight  over  Brandon's  account  of  her  hero's  conquest! 
She  had  greatly  feared  her  uncle's  opposition  to  Prince 
Solntsoff's  religion,  and  that  her  cousin's  intense  American- 
ism would  prejudice  him  against  her  friendship  with  a  for- 

124 


MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON 

eigner;  and  lo!  all  these  difficulties  were  so  beautifully,  so 
unexpectedly  smoothed  away. 

For  the  bishop's  first  talk  with  his  niece  was  most  en- 
couraging. 

"My  dear  godchild,"  he  said,  seriously,  with  that  up- 
ward, far-seeing  look  that  came  into  his  eyes  when  he  spoke 
in  his  professional  capacity,  "we  may  hope  that  under  the 
Divine  guidance,  your  friendship  with  this  man,  which  has 
led  to  my  meeting  with  him,  will  help  to  bring  about  that 
reunion  of  all  branches  of  the  Catholic  Church  which  is  the 
object  of  my  life's  labors  and  prayers.  Rupert  tells  me  that 
Prince  Solntsoff  is  in  high  favor  with  the  authorities  of  the 
Russian  state  church,  and  I  find  his  attitude  most  gratifying. 
He  listened  with  the  closest  possible  attention  to  my  views 
of  corporate  reunion  through  the  via  media  of  the  Anglican 
Church.  I  firmly  believe  it  is  our  mission  to  work  together 
with  him  to  bring  about  a  better  understanding  with  the  Or- 
thodox synods.  It  is  important,  therefore,  that  you  should 
be  properly  instructed  at  once  on  the  points  that  divide  us." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad  that  you  feel  that  way!  I  am  most 
anxious  to  be  instructed  as  soon  as  possible,"  cried  Faith, 
eagerly,  quite  misunderstanding  the  point  of  view  from  which 
the  bishop  regarded  the  question.  "I  care  so  much,  so  very 
much  about  it,  and  long  to  see  my  way  clearer.  It  seems 
so  strange  and  useless  that  there  should  be  anything  at  all 
to  divide  us,  when  my  church  is  trying  to  restore  the  very 
things  that  his  has  always  kept." 

"I  am  to  meet  a  number  of  their  bishops  and  clergy," 
continued  her  uncle,  who  had  not  paid  much  attention  to 
the  child's  interruption.  "I  have  letters  from  our  own 
hierarchy,  and  Solntsoff  will  furnish  me  with  others.  We 
may  hope  for  great  results.  And  you,  my  dear,  must 
cultivate  a  true  missionary  spirit  in  harmony  with  the  views 
I  shall  inculcate  in  you.  I  will  lay  out  a  course  of  reading 
for  you  this  winter." 

125 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"Prince  Solntsoff  has  promised  me  some  books,"  began 
Faith. 

"Ah,  yes  —  er  —  but  you  see,  he  is  only  a  layman.  As 
a  priest  and  a  theologian,  I  shall  know  better  how  to  counsel 
you  in  the  delicate  questions  that  divide  us." 

Faith  thought  that  Solntsoff  would  understand  the  be- 
liefs and  practices  of  his  own  church  better  than  any  out- 
sider, however  learned,  but  out  of  respect  to  her  uncle  did 
not  press  the  point;  and  she  wondered  a  little  if  Russians, 
whose  charm  of  manner  was  proverbial,  would  be  flattered 
at  being  taken  for  English.  But  she  discreetly  kept  such 
reflections  to  herself. 

"I  have  now  seen  severa*  members  of  the  Ludlow  family," 
thought  the  prince,  "  and  they  seem  a  healthy  lot,  without 
the  slightest  trace  of  mental  aberration,  unless  it  is  that 
bishop  with  his  curious  obsessions  about  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race  and  the  claims  of  the  Anglican  Church.  I  can  under- 
stand and  respect  out-and-out  Protestants;  but  these  people 
who,  for  three  centuries,  have  rejected  Catholic  doctrines 
and  sacraments  and  stood  upon  Protestant  principles,  and 
now  suddenly  expect  us  to  say  that  they  are,  and  always  have 
been,  uninterruptedly,  an  integral  part  of  the  Catholic 
Church  —  No!  Their  logic  is  quite  beyond  me.  They 
'_want  to  eat  their  cake  and  have  it,  too,'  apparently." 

In  the  meanwhile  the  bishop  reported  to  Brandon  that 
Faith  had.  shown  a  splendid  missionary  spirit,  and  that 
through  Solntsoff's  ecclesiastical  influences  and  his  high 
connections  in  court  circles  they  might  do  a  grand  work  in 
bringing  this,  great  schismatic  empire  under  the  yoke  of 
Christ  through  the  pure  faith  of  the  Anglican  communion. 

"How  could  Miss  Brandon  have  so  completely  misunder- 
stood so  fine  and  religious  a  man  as  Solntsoff?  "  asked  his  son. 

"I  have  no  patience  with  that  woman,"  declared  the 
bishop.  "  She  is  one  of  those  Unitarians  who  try  one's  very 
soul  by  their  assumption  of  intellectual  superiority.  Even 

126 


MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON 

toward  me,  the  representative  of  the  brainiest  of  the  churches, 
she  puts  on  a  supercilious  air  as  if  tolerating  a  creature  of 
inferior  mental  endowment.  It  is  enough  to  make  one's 
blood  boil!  Great  heavens!  There  are  moments  when  I 
feel  as  if "  but  the  good  man  checked  himself  in  time. 

Brandon  Ludlow  had  spent  the  first  twenty-four  hours  after 
their  arrival  in  seeing  the  sights  of  Odessa  and  its  environs. 

"There  is  going  to  be  a  'sauterie,'  I  suppose  that  means  a 
'hop,'  to-night,  in  the  hotel  ballroom,"  he  told  Faith.  "  The 
cadets  from  the  visiting  warships  are  giving  it  for  the  younger 
set;  and  Solntsoff's  friend,  who  knows  all  the  officials  here,  has 
got  invitations  for  us.  Have  you  anything  to  wear,  Faithie?" 

"Oh,  just  the  thing!"  exclaimed  Faith,  delightedly. 
"  Dear  old  Sophy  knew  I  hadn't  much,  and  she  tucked  one 
of  her  evening  gowns  into  my  boxes  when  Genevieve  wasn't 
looking.  It  isn't  a  ball  gown,  but  it  is  dressy  enough  for  a 
schoolgirl.  It  is  a  light-blue  cre"pe  de  chine." 

"I  say,  Faith,  how  did  you  come  to  take  to  Solntsoff 
rather  than  to  that  stunning  friend  of  his?  He  wears  such 
bully  clothes  and  is  such  an  Apollo  I  should  think  he  would 
have  bowled  you  over  at  first  sight." 

"What  friend?"  asked  Faith,  wonderingly.  "Lyeff  Pe- 
trovich  never  spoke  to  me  of  any  friend!  Oh,  it  must  be 
that  officer  who  sang  so  beautifully." 

"He  has  been  showing  me  the  city,"  said  Brandon.  "He 
is  an  awfully  jolly  chap,  full  of  the  'Old  Nick,'  but  very  decent 
withal,  and  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  I  was  decent,  too, 
and  capable  of  being  interested  in  serious  things.  Some 
men,  you  know  —  no,  you  don't  know,  because  you  are  a 
girl  —  but  some  men  always  think  a  young  fellow  has  no 
idea  in  his  head  but  to  have  a  regular  tear  and  see  all  the 
freaks  and  the  shady  side  of  things.  But  this  one  treated 
me  like  a  —  like  a " 

"Like  a  gentleman,"  suggested  Faith. 

"Well,  that  about  sizes  it  up,"  admitted  Brandon. 

127 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Lady  Bowen  expressed  her  willingness  to  matronize  her 
at  the  dance,  and  in  fear  and  trembling  Faith  tried  on  Sophy's 
pretty  blue  frock.  It  was  last  year's  style  and  not  elabor- 
ately made,  but  the  color  became  her,  the  bodice  fitted  not 
too  badly,  and  the  skirt  —  oh,  joy!  —  the  skirt  reached  well 
below  her  ankles. 

"If  I  only  dared  do  my  hair  up!"  she  sighed  wistfully. 
Then  she  danced  gayly  into  the  sitting-room  to  show  herself 
off  to  her  kind  old  friend. 

"At  last  I  can  wear  something  pretty!"  she  cried.  "Oh, 
I  did  look  like  such  a  fright  in  Yalta,  with  nothing  but 
cheap  shoes  and  last  year's  hats  and  made-over  frocks! 
My  only  comfort  is  that  Knyaz  Solntsoff  has  seen  me  at 
my  very  worst;  and  if  his  friendship  has  survived  the  shock 
of  my  past  appearance,  it  will  survive  anything." 

"Don't  worry  about  your  looks,"  laughed  Lady  Bowen. 
"You  may  be  sure  he  hasn't  cared  at  all  what  you  had  on. 
Men  are  faithful  creatures,  my  dear!  When  a  manly  man 
once  takes  a  good  woman  to  his  heart,  it  would  require  a 
great  deal  more  than  ugly  clothes  to  kill  his  affection." 

Then  Faith  began  to  have  misgivings  whether  Solntsoff 
would  care  for  the  ball.  Odessa  had  not  the  aristocratic 
society  of  Yalta,  for  it  was  wholly  a  commercial  city,  with 
a  large  German  colony,  and  the  dance  was  for  the  younger 
set.  But  to  her  relief  he  accepted. 

"Oh,  do  you  care  to  come?  and  do  you  dance?"  asked 
Faith,  eagerly. 

"  Could  I  be  a  courtier  and  not  dance,  at  least  to  dance 
attendance?"  he  replied,  amused.  "I  shall  be  there  to 
claim  the  first  waltz  after  ten  o'clock,  our  first  waltz  to- 
gether!" he  added  sentimentally,  as  he  stood  looking  down 
at  the  sweet,  girlish  figure  with  tender  admiration. 

"There!"  exclaimed  Faith.  "Lady  Bowen  said  you 
wouldn't  care,  and  you  do  care!" 

"No,  she  is  quite  right,"  answered  he,  "I  should  not  care 

128 


MR.  LIONEL  PIERSON 

at  all,  for  my  own  sake.  You  might  be  dressed  in  sack- 
cloth, and  I  should  be  just  as  content  were  I  alone  con- 
cerned. But  for  your  own  dear  sake  I  am  well  pleased." 

She  was  proud  and  happy  to  tell  him  of  the  bishop's 
unexpected  liberality.  He  sat  by  her  side  and  held  her  hand 
softly  clasped  in  his,  and  Lady  Bowen  left  them  alone  to- 
gether there,  for  it  was  the  prince's  last  evening. 

"The  bishop  has  been  unexpectedly  generous  to  me,  too," 
said  SolntsofT.  "This  separation  will  not  be  so  hard  as  we 
feared,  for  we  may  correspond  all  we  like,  and  I  may  visit 
you  as  often  as  I  am  able.  He  gives  his  full  consent  to  my 
suit,  and  his  god-fatherly  blessing  to  the  happy  lovers." 

"Lovers!"  echoed  Faith,  startled  and  blushing.  "Are 
we  truly  —  lovers?" 

"I  am  most  emphatically  your  lover,"  he  declared.  "And 
you  have  given  me  to  understand,  have  you  not,  that  I  am 
safe  in  letting  myself  feel  very,  very  happy?" 

"Do  I  really  make  you  feel  so  very  happy?"  she  asked, 
almost  incredulously. 

"You  know  that  you  do!"  he  replied.  "You  cannot 
have  failed  to  see  it  from  the  very  first." 

"Yes,  I  have  seen  it,"  she  admitted,  shyly,  "but  I  cannot 
understand  it." 

"Neither  do  I  understand,"  he  said,  teasingly,  "how  such 
a  romantic,  visionary,  castle-building  little  school-maiden, 
with  all  of  her  life  and  the  wide  world  before  her,  should 
deliberately  take  a  fancy  to  a  plain,  sober,  sedate  man  nearly 
twice  her  age,  who  never  did  anything  heroic,  who  doesn't 
wear  a  uniform,  who  is  not  even  a  sportsman.  No,  I  cannot 
understand  it!  What  is  it  in  me  that  attracts  you,  Faith? 
What  romance  do  you  find  about  me?" 

"Oh!"  exclaimed  Faith,  with  enthusiasm,  "to  me,  you 
are  a  very  romantic  figure  —  a  prince,  from  far-off  Russia, 
with  the  history  and  traditions  of  your  ancient  family,  and 
all  the  glamor  of  your  high  position  at  court,  your  rank,  your 

129 


FAITH  BRANDON 

orders,  your  distinguished  connections  —  oh,  to  me  it  all 
seems  the  very  acme  of  romance!" 

Solntsoff  bit  his  lip  and  a  dark  flush  suffused  his  counte- 
nance. He  had  forgotten  his  title  and  his  high  position 
in  the  great  world  of  Imperial  Russia.  It  was  all  such  an 
every-day  affair  to  him  that  he  had  not  thought  of  its  possible 
effect  on  a  young  mind  unaccustomed  to  rank  and  court  life. 

"So,"  he  remarked  after  a  moment,  "it  pleases  you  to 
think  of  me  as  '  Knyaz  Solntsoff,'  living  in  a  palace  and 
called  'Illustrious  Highness/  and  hobnobbing  with  Im- 
perial and  Serene  Highnesses  and  High  Excellencies  and 
court-grandees?  " 

"Oh,  immensely!"  cried  Faith,  from  the  fulness  of  her 
honest  soul. 

He  turned  his  face  away.  A  sharp  spasm  of  pain  con- 
tracted his  features.  He  felt  sick  at  heart.  Her  hand  still 
nestled  in  his.  In  spite  of  his  keen  hurt  and  disappointment 
he  could  not  let  it  go. 

"Faith,  dear  child! "he  said  at  last,  with  an  effort  to  be 
calm  and  reasonable.  "I  fear  I  have  not  told  you  enough 
about  myself  and  my  affairs.  It  is  only  right  you  should 
know  that  I  am  preparing  to  give  up  the  very  things  you 
care  for  so  —  so  'immensely.'  I  myself  am  indifferent  to 
them  and  had  supposed  that  you,  the  child  of  a  democracy, 
would  be  equally  so.  Your  prince,  my  poor  Cinderella, 
does  not  live  in  a  palace.  My  uncle  does,  but  I  have  never 
been  willing  to  receive  a  single  kopeyk  from  him.  He  has 
two  married  daughters  and  several  grandchildren  to  inherit 
his  wealth,  and  I  have  preferred  to  live  independently  on 
my  own  small  income.  This  is  going  to  be  smaller  than 
ever  now,  as  I  intend  at  the  end  of  next  year  to  give  up  my 
post  at  the  Foreign  Office  and  my  position  at  court.  The 
loss  of  my  salary  and  emoluments  will  leave  me  nothing  to 
depend  upon  but  a  patrimony  of  very  modest  proportions, 
and  what  income  my  pen  may  bring  me." 

130 


MR.   LIONEL  PIERSON 

"You  are  going  to  resign  your  position?"  faltered  Faith, 
in  low,  troubled  tones. 

"Yes.  That  is  one  of  the  things  I  went  to  consult  Father 
Spiridion  about.  I  have  been  coming  to  feel,  year  by  year 
and  day  by  day,  that  I  must  make  my  career  along  other 
lines.  I  am  not  fitted  by  temperament  for  diplomacy, 
and  I  dislike  the  life  of  travel  and  long  absences  from  home 
that  it  entails,  especially  if  I  marry.  The  atmosphere  of 
court  We  is  also  oppressive  to  me.  I  am  sincerely  attached 
to  many  members  of  the  Imperial  family  and  their  interests, 
and  I  shall  regret  severing  my  connection  with  them.  But 
I  am  of  too  combative  and  distrustful  a  nature  to  get  on 
well  with  my  fellow  courtiers.  I  am  a  good  fighter  —  with 
my  pen  —  and  I  believe  I  can  serve  my  country's  interests 
better  as  a  publicist  than  as  an  office-holder.  But  to  write 
disinterestedly  and  impartially  of  public  affairs,  I  must  be 
independent  of  any  office  or  any  suspicion  of  self-interest. 
As  a  publicist  I  must  associate  with  men  of  the  same  calling, 
among  whom  my  title  and  aristocratic  connections  will  be 
an  actual  drawback  to  me.  You  must  think  of  me  then 
henceforth,  apart  from  rank  or  wealth  or  princely  environ- 
ments, not  as  Knyaz  Solntsoff,  but  as  plain  Mr.  Peterson, 
or  Pierson  —  a  man  with  no  glamor  of  romance  about  him, 
with  absolutely  nothing  to  offer  you  but  his  unadorned, 
matter-of-fact  personality  and  the  simple  home  of  a  pro- 
fessional man  of  restricted  means.  I  cannot  go  back  now, 
even  for  you,  Vyera!" 

His  head  was  still  turned  away  from  her.  He  could 
not  bear  to  see  the  light  die  out  in  her  eager  eyes; 
he  had  not  the  courage  to  watch  the  quiver  of  disappoint- 
ment on  her  lips.  He  felt  her  hand  slowly  withdrawn 
from  his.  He  grew  icy  cold  and  his  big  frame  began  to 
tremble. 

All  at  once  two  gentle  hands  crept  up  about  his  shoulders. 
They  clasped  about  his  neck  and  drew  his  head  downward. 


FAITH  BRANDON 

He  felt  the  touch  of  a  tender  cheek  against  his;  he  heard 
the  murmur  of  a  sweet  voice. 

"It  was  only  for  your  sake  that  I  liked  to  think  of  you  as  a 
prince.  For  my  own  sake,  I  understand  and  love  you  better 
this  way,  as  plain  Mr.  Lionel  Pierson,  but  my  hero!  my  own 
hero!  more  romantic  than  ever!" 

He  clasped  her  stormily  in  his  arms.  Her  head  lay  hidden 
against  his  breast  and  she  could  hear  the  heavily  throbbing 
heart  and  the  quickly  drawn  brearh.  Then  she  raised  her 
young  face  with  its  loving,  trusting  eyes  and  tender  lips  to 
his,  her  sweet  maidenhood  and  his  clean,  upright  manhood 
exchanging  their  first  kiss,  a  kiss  that  was  to  both  as  a 
sacred  vow  of  betrothal. 


132 


CHAPTER  X 

"BACKFISCHLY" 

"So  do  I  marvel  that  your  tender  eyes, 
So  full  of  childish  love  and  modesty, 
Can  guide  me  safely  when,  'neath  darkened  skies, 
Temptation  luring,  smiling,  whispers  me — 
When  Sin,  with  silent  scorn  and  mockery, 
Would  blind  my  eyes  to  Christ  and  Calvary." 

— Breen. 

Two  men  in  evening  dress  paused  at  the  doorway  of  the 
ballroom  and  stood  looking  in  on  the  pretty  scene.  One, 
tall,  shapely,  well-poised  and  fair,  bowed  courteously  to 
Lady  Bowen,  shook  hands  with  Ludlow,  and  when  his 
glance  fell  upon  Faith  in  her  pretty  crepe  frock,  sitting 
among  some  young  German  school-maidens,  a  tender  look  of 
deep  content  filled  his  keen  blue  eyes. 

The  other  man,  an  inch  or  two  shorter  than  his  companion 
but  yet  well  above  the  medium  height,  was  of  soldierly 
bearing  and  courtly  elegance  of  manner.  His  brown  hair, 
cut  close  to  his  well-formed  head,  was  smooth  and  glossy, 
and  was  brushed  in  a  broad  sweep  across  the  white,  noble 
brow.  His  features  were  regular,  the  nose  short  and  finely 
chiseled,  the  full  curves  of  the  mouth  and  chin  having  both 
beauty  and  strength.  His  eyes,  large  and  brilliant,  were 
of  darkest  gray,  heavily  fringed  with  thick,  dark  lashes. 
A  well-curled  moustache  completed  the  distinctly  military 
air  of  the  handsome  stranger.  The  thin  lines  of  two  faint 
scars  across  his  left  cheekbone  hardly  detracted  from  his 
beauty,  but  rather  seemed  in  keeping  with  his  dashing, 
soldierly  grace,  lending  a  suggestion  of  romance,  of  a  past 
of  duels  and  dangers  and  daring  deeds. 

133 


FAITH  BRANDON 

In  spite  of  his  military  bearing  he  was  not  in  uniform, 
but  wore  the  severe  evening  garb  of  civil  life.  His  cut  and 
fashion  of  dress  was  almost  aggressively  English  and  he  car- 
ried a  monocle.  Raising  the  monocle  to  his  eye  he  glanced 
round  the  ballroom.  Then  he  dropped  it  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders  indifferently. 

"Nothing  but  sucklings!"  he  remarked.  "Bread-and- 
butter  misses,  milk-and-water  schoolboys  and  specimens 
of  the  German  'Backfisch.'"*  He  looked  bored  and  turned 
to  leave,  but  seeing  that  Solntsoff  had  no  intention  of 
moving  he  waited  courteously  for  him. 

"It  makes  me  feel  like  a  grandfather,"  he  complained. 
"Nothing  here  a  day  over  sixteen,  an  insupportable  age, 
neither  fish,  flesh  nor  good  red  herring!" 

"Sixteen,"  said  Solntsoff,  slowly,  "is  an  adorable  age!" 

His  friend  stared  at  him.  "Do  I  hear  this  from  the 
astute  Lyeff  Petrovich?"  he  asked.  "You  are  too  young, 
heart's  Brother!  We  do  not  begin  to  dote  on  sixteen  till  we 
are  sixty.  Then,  when  we  are  turning  from  the  consolations 
of  this  life  to  prepare  for  those  of  the  next,  we  may  with 
propriety  babble  about  the  freshness  of  youth,  sweet  sixteen, 
field  daisies,  the  modest  violet,  the  dew  on  the  rose-leaf, 
the  bloom  on  the  peach,  etc.,  etc.  H'm!  Let  me  see! 
Who  is  the  apple-cheeked,  saucer-eyed  'Backfisch'  in  that 
group  of  blond  German  'Gretchens'?  She  has  'eyes  to 
catch  fish  with  on  a  cloudy  night,' "  and  up  went  the  monocle 
again. 

Solntsoff  did  not  answer. 

"Aha!"  exclaimed  the  other.  For  just  at  that  moment 
Faith  had  caught  sight  of  the  prince,  her  cheeks  crimsoned, 
her  uplifted  eyes  grew  luminous,  and  one  of  her  sudden, 
radiant  smiles  transfigured  her  young  face.  She  rose 
shyly,  dropped  him  a  conventional  little  courtesy  and 
resumed  her  seat  among  her  companions. 

"Literally,  fish  for  frying,  the  German  nickname  for  a  young  girl. 

134 


ACKFISCHLY" 

"Aha!"  said  the  newcomer,  again.  Then  he  added  to 
himself,  "She  must  be  young  and  unsophisticated,  indeed, 
if  the  staid,  prudish  Lyeff  Petrovich  is  able  to  bring  a  blush 
to  her  modest  cheek." 

"I  apologize  to  you,  Brother,"  he  said,  aloud.  "Sixteen 
is  indeed  an  adorable  age,  and  evidently,  lucky  fellow!  an 
adoring  one,  also.  My  felicitations!  They  are  quite  in 
order,  are  they  not?  " 

Lyeff  Petrovich  hesitated.  "I  have  spoken,  as  you  know, 
to  her  brother  and  uncle;  but  there  is  no  public  betrothal 
at  present,  as  she  is  very  young,  and  the  father  is  absent 
and  may  make  difficulties,"  he  replied,  unwillingly. 

The  other  man  was  immensely  amused.  It  was  really 
too  absurd,  Solntsoff,  the  mature,  steady,  intellectual 
Solntsoff,  and  this  big-eyed,  blushing,  long-limbed,  apple- 
cheeked  schoolgirl  with  braided  hair!  It  took  the  wise 
fellows  to  make  fools  of  themselves!  What  could  Lyova 
possibly  see  in  that  saucer-eyed  "Backfisch"  to  sweep  him 
off  his  well-planted  feet? 

"How  could  there  be  any  difficulties,  little  Brother?" 
he  exclaimed  aloud,  heartily.  "As  steady  a  fellow  as  you 
has  nothing  to  fear.  It  is  we  gay  sinners  that  are  kept  in 
a  flutter  when  the  papas  begin  to  inquire.  That  is  the  one 
moment  when  you  saints  have  the  advantage.  Usually  it 
is  with  us,"  and  he  dropped  his  monocle  and  twisted  his 
moustache  with  a  maddening  air  of  conscious  superiority. 

Solntsoff  bit  his  lip.  The  two  men  had  been  school- 
companions  and  neighbors  in  early  youth  and  were  still 
outwardly  friendly,  each  admiring  the  other's  talents  and 
many  fine  qulities,  while  each  held  his  friend  in  secret  con- 
tempt, the  one  for  vices,  the  other  for  virtues,  which  he  did 
not  share. 

Both  men  entered  the  room  and  crossed  to  where  Faith 
sat.  She  rose  somewhat  timidly  to  greet  Lyeff  Petrovich. 

"Vye*ra   Karlovna,   permit  me   to   present   to  you    the 

135 


FAITH  BRANDON 

earliest  friend  of  my  boyhood,  Count  von  Dovsprung. 
Youri  Andre vich,*  Miss  Faith  Brandon!" 

And  Faith,  with  her  graceful  courtesy,  with  her  sweet 
smile  and  polite  words  of  greeting,  looked  up  into  the 
brilliant  eyes  of  the  handsomest  man  she  had  ever  seen. 

And  he,  on  his  side,  gazed  as  if  spellbound  into  the 
loveliest,  most  soulful  orbs  that  had  ever  been  raised  to 
meet  his  from  woman's  face. 

For  an  instant  Dovsprung  felt  as  if  some  sort  of  moral 
earthquake  had  torn  his  soul  from  the  security  of  its  foun- 
dations of  cynicism  and  self-complacency.  The  face  he 
stood  gazing  into,  though  fine  and  wholesome,  was  not 
beautiful.  The  tall,  straight  young  figure,  though  well- 
proportioned  and  of  noble  carriage,  lacked  style  and  ele- 
gance. The  blue  frock,  though  tastefully  made  and  of  good 
material,  was  ill-fitting  and  of  bygone  fashion.  The  young 
girl  was  at  that  awkward  age  when  she  had  outgrown  the 
unconscious  graces  that  delight  us  in  childhood,  and  was 
still  too  young  to  allure  as  a  woman.  Yet  this  man  of  the 
great-world,  this  cosmopolitan  hero  of  high-life  felt  at  once 
a  distinct  appeal  to  long-forgotten,  youthful  emotions  of 
chivalry  and  idealism.  His  fastidious  taste  acknowledged 
instantly  the  charm  of  an  unusual  personality  revealed  in 
the  poetic  brow,  the  starlike  eyes,  the  transfiguring  smile, 
the  sweet  voice,  the  high-bred  manner,  the  intelligence, 
innocence  and  uprightness  that  shone  in  every  lineament. 
It  gave  him  a  certain  pleasure  that  his  sophisticated  heart 
could  fall  under  the  spell  of  so  purely  spiritual  a  charm, 
that  his  worldly,  cynical  nature  still  retained  sufficient 
idealism  to  respond  to  an  attraction  so  superior  to  that 
of  the  usual  feminine  allurements. 

"Youri  Andre  vich,"  he  told  himself,  "you  are  no  saint, 
but  you  are  a  man  of  delicacy  and  honor,  for  all  that.  You 
have  always  respected  innocence,  and  if  virtue  had  always 

*  Pronounced  Your'-ee  An-dray'-yev-itch,  i.  e.,  George,  son  of  Andrew. 

136 


"BACKFISCHLY" 

worn  so  intelligent  and  attractive  an  exterior,  if  feminine 
charm  were  always  as  sincerely  ingenuous  as  in  this  little 
'Backfisch,'  you  could  easily  be  a  model  man.  Why, 
then,  does  Providence  arrange  things  so  poorly  as  to 
apportion  such  a  delicious  type  of  goodness  to  a  soul 
so  secure  of  salvation  as  Lyeff  Petrovich,  instead  of 
employing  it  as  heavenly  bait  to  catch  a  poor  sinner 
like  yourself?  It  is  not  a  scientific  distribution  of  its 
spiritual  resources ! " 

But  of  what  passed  in  his  thoughts  nothing  was  to  be 
read  in  his  handsome,  impassive  countenance.  He  merely 
bowed  low  and  asked  her  to  take  a  turn  with  him. 

Faith,  who  had  never  before  waltzed  with  so  old  and 
distinguished  a  partner,  was  flattered  and  fluttered.  Secretly 
thankful  for  the  drill  Baroness  Stourdza  had  given  her  in 
ballroom  etiquette,  she  let  the  elegant  stranger  put  his 
arm  about  her  waist  and  glided  off  with  him  into  the  most 
delightful  waltz  she  had  ever  imagined.  So  light  was  his 
hold,  so  almost  imperceptible  his  guiding  touch,  so  quick 
her  intuitive  response  that  all  effort,  all  idea  of  physical 
exercise  was  banished;  and  it  seemed  as  if  they  were  simply 
floating  through  space  in  perfect  harmony  of  will  and 
motion.  It  was  a  dance  to  dream  of. 

Solntsoff,  left  alone,  was  sore  at  heart  and  disappointed. 
He  had  rarely  waltzed  of  late  years,  though  he  had  been 
a  skilful  dancer  in  his  early  days  at  court.  He  had  made 
an  unusual  effort  in  coming  to  the  ballroom  this  evening, 
thinking  to  give  his  Little  Comrade  pleasure  by  having 
their  first  waltz  together.  And  now  Dovsprung  had  stepped 
between  them  and  taken  her  off  from  under  his  very  eyes. 
He  was  cross  and  restless. 

"I  do  not  at  all  approve  of  schoolgirls  leading  the  life  of 
grown  people,"  he  grumbled.  "If  they  dance  half  the 
night  at  balls  when  they  are  sixteen,  what  is  left  for  them 
when  they  are  older?" 

137 


FAITH  BRANDON 

This  was  surely  unreasonable  of  the  prince,  since  he  him- 
self had  encouraged  Faith  to  attend  the  dance. 

At  the  end  of  the  second  turn  round  the  spacious  hall 
Dovsprung  gave  his  arm  to  Faith  and  led  her  to  the  gallery 
beyond,  from  whence  they  could  view  the  superb  panorama 
of  harbor  and  sea 

"You  dance  exquisitely,"  he  said,  in  German.  "I  do 
not  wish  to  interfere  with  Lyeff  Petrovich's  monopoly 
of  the  beautiful  Russian  equivalent  for  your  name,  yet  I 
cannot  pronounce  it  in  English.  I  understand  your  language 
perfectly  but  never  try  to  speak  either  English  or  modern 
Greek  on  account  of  that  't-h'  sound,  so  I  shall  speak  in 
German  and  call  you  'Backfischly.'" 

Faith  laughed  and  replied  in  the  same  language,  "Then 
our  acquaintance  must  have  an  early  termination." 

"Are  you  offended?"  he  asked.  "Believe  me,  I  do  not 
mean  the  appellation  in  any  invidious  sense.  It  has  a  sweet 
significance  to  me." 

"I  am  not  offended,"  she  explained,  "but  in  another 
year  I  shall  be  a  full-fledged  young  lady,  and  there  will  be 
no  more  '  Backfischly.' " 

He  frowned.  "Supply  me  with  an  enduring  name,  then," 
he  commanded. 

"My  French  and  German  friends  and  acquaintance 
call  me  by  a  name  that  also  signifies  Faith,  the  Latin  form, 
'Fides.'" 

"Fides!"  he  repeated  softly,  "Fides!  Yes,  that  will 
suit  you  well,  both  in  childhood  and  womanhood,  in  youth 
.and  maturity.  Fides!  Yes,  you  shall  be  to  me  always 
'Fides.'" 

Faith  glanced  about  her  a  little  nervously.  It  was  now 
past  ten  o'clock  and  the  music  was  beginning  for  the  next 
waltz,  the  one  she  had  promised  to  Lyeff  Petrovich.  By 
the  customs  of  the  ballroom  she  should  return  to  sit  by 
Lady  Bowen  till  her  partner  came  to  claim  her 

138 


"BACKFISCHLY" 

"You  are  looking  for  Levochka,"  said  Dovsprung,  quickly. 
"Never  fear!  He  sees  you.  I  know  better  than  to  take 
you  out  of  range  of  his  jealous  gaze.  He  is  watching  us 
like  a  cat." 

Faith  flushed  angrily.  "He  is  not  so  easily  made  jeal- 
ous," she  declared. 

He  flashed  a  keen  glance  at  her.  "Is  that  a  challenge?" 
he  asked.  "Do  you  'dare'  me  to  make  him  jealous?  Then 
I  'dare'  you,  as  a  young  lady  of  spirit,  to  assert  your  inde- 
pendence. Walk  out  with  me  on  the  terrace  in  the  heavenly 
moonlight,  and  let  him  come  in  search  of  you.  Show  him 
you  are  not  so  easily  won." 

"And  show  you  that  I  am  very  easily  won!"  she  retorted. 
"Thank  you,  but  I  prefer  to  respect  the  courtesies  of  the 
ballroom." 

"A  very  proper  and  laudable  sentiment,"  he  remarked, 
dryly. 

She  felt  that  he  was  laughing  at  her.  "I  did  not  mean 
my  statement  as  a  'dare,' "  she  explained,  meekly.  "  But 
I  know  that  Lyeff  Petrovich  has  great  confidence  in  me, 
and  I  would  not  wish  to  be  unworthy  of  it."  Then  she 
grew  scarlet.  She  was  making  the  occasion  unjustifiably 
serious. 

"I,  too,  have  great  confidence  in  you,"  said  Dovsprung, 
gravely.  "I  would  have  staked  my  last  possession  on  your 
refusing  my  challenge." 

"Then  you  were  testing  me,"  she  cried,  indignantly. 
"That  was  unfair!  I  am  very  inexperienced.  I  might  have 
gone  with  you,  not  knowing  better." — *— 

"I  would  not  have  let  you,"  he  declared.  "I  would 
have  given  you  a  moral  lecture  and  led  you  back  to  your 
matron.  Believe  me,  we  men  adore  the  inexperience  of 
innocence  and  we  know  how  keen  and  unerring  is  its  instinct  to 
avoid  wrong.  I  knew  what  type  of  woman  I  had  to  deal  with, 
I  knew  you  would  not  go.  That  is  why  I  adore  —  Fid&sl " 

139 


FAITH  BRANDON 

And  Solntsoff,  trying  with  all  his  might  not  to  appear 
to  be  watching  the  two,  saw  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye  Dov- 
sprung's  glossy  brown  head  bend  low  over  Faith's  hand. 

The  next  dance  had  begun,  and  Dovsprung  should  have 
led  Faith  back,  yet  there  he  was,  detaining  her  in  the  cor- 
ridor with  his  gallantries.  Solntsoff's  blood  boiled.  Men 
had  fought  duels  for  less  reason!  He  turned  away  from  the 
ball-room,  his  heart  full  of  contempt  for  Youri  Andrevich. 

"He  will  dance  with  that  innocent  girl,"  he  thought, 
bitterly,  "and  then  he  will  leave  her  to  pass  the  rest  of  his 
evening  at  a  gay  Bohemian  supper  in  the  town,  on  the 
invitation  of  a  foreign  adventuress  whom  he  has  never  met, 
but  who  had  the  impudence  to  write  him  on  his  arrival. 
He  will  turn  from  this  to  go  to  that!" 

Solntsoff  had  not  lacked  such  invitations  himself,  though 
he  knew  how  to  ignore  them.  But  where  he  had  received 
three  or  four,  the  handsome  Dovsprung's  table  was  heaped 
with  perfumed  notes,  both  from  the  world  of  Bohemia  and 
from  women  of  the  highest  fashion. 

Past-master  in  that  fascinating  and  absorbing  duel  of 
wits  and  passions,  the  art  of  flirtation,  Youri  Andrevich 
was  regarded  by  the  feminine  world  in  general  with  tender 
interest  and  emotion  as  the  sentimental  hero  of  a  number 
of  so-called  "Platonic  friendships"  with  women  of  rank 
and  talent  and  fashion,  friendships  which  a  cynical  society 
accepted  outwardly  with  a  smile  and  a  shrug,  while  inwardly 
labeling  them  wow-Platonic.  But  he  was  ever  the  gallant 
defender  of  the  fair  name  of  women,  for  whom  he  could  "  lie 
like  a  gentleman,"  or  fight  a  duel  on  ostensibly  trivial  grounds, 
as  occasion  might  require. 

He  had  yawned  over  his  love-missives  with  the  indif- 
ference of  one  long  habituated  to  such  things.  "The 
fledglings  in  their  nests  and  the  mother-birds  on  the  branch 
all  singing  the  same  song,"  he  remarked.  "'Age  cannot 
wither  nor  custom  stale'  the  feminine  heart.  Here  they 

140 


"BACKFISCHLY" 

go  into  the  flames.  Next!  Next!  This  note  interests 
me.  I  shall  go.  Her  little  suppers  are  said  to  be  very 
sprightly,  and  this  seems  to  be  a  general  affair.  She  is  of 
the  very  topmost  circle  of  gay  Bohemia,  for  there  are 
well-defined  circles  there  just  as  in " 

"Hell!"  suggested  Solnstoff,  dryly. 

"Call  it  purgatory,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  the  other, 
lightly.  "It  is  so  near  heaven!  She  signs  herself  'Alixe 
de  St.  Quentin,'  but  I  believe  her  name  is  really  Elise 
Schuster.  Have  you  met  her?" 

"No!"  said  Solntsoff,  shortly,  "I  am  not  a  connoisseur 
in  'sprightliness. ' " 

"Oh,  pardon!  I  understand  and,  in  a  measure,  share 
your  prejudices;  but,  in  this  case,  one  meets  many  from 
the  great-world  at  her  little  suppers,  and  it  would  not  com- 
promise you  if  you  cared  to  join  us?" 

"Thank  you,  I  have  other  tastes  and  other  engagements," 
Solntsoff  had  replied,  curtly-.""' 

It  was  insupportable  that  this  man  should  be  allowed 
to  associate  with  a  girl  like  Faith.  Yet  he  himself  had  in- 
troduced them,  remembering  only  Dovsprung's  punctilious, 
almost  Quixotic  chivalry  toward  the  young  and  the  inex- 
perienced. He  lightly  called  himself  a  sinner,  and  deserved 
to  be  so  called;  but,  incorrigible  flirt  though  he  might  be, 
and  lacking  in  principle  in  many  directions,  Youri  Andrevich 
was  no  trifler  with  the  heart  of  innocence.  When  he  played 
the  game  of  false  love  it  was  with  those  who  knew  the  game, 
who  understood  what  such  love  as  his  meant.  He  played  it 
strictly  according  to  certain  codes  of  honor  widely  accepted 
in  smart,  up-to-date  ethics,  and  he  held  his  handsome  head 
high  in  the  security  of  his  position  as  "a  man  of  honor 
and  a  gentleman."  ' 

Faith  had  re-entered  the  ballroom  just  as  Solntsoff  left 
it.  She  had  conscientiously  waited  through  three  dances  in 
hopes  of  his  coming  to  claim  her,  but  Brandon  reported  see- 

141 


FAITH  BRANDON 

ing  him  absorbed  in  a  game  of  billiards,  so  she  listlessly 
took  a  few  turns  with  her  cousin  and  with  some  of  the 
young  cadets.  When,  later,  refreshments  were  served  she 
took  her  seat  with  Lady  Bowen  and  Brandon  on  the  terrace. 
Dovsprung  soon  approached  them,  prettily  greeted  from 
many  a  table  as  he  passed,  gallant  and  debonair,  but  he  came 
directly  to  Lady  Bowen's  table  and  seated  himself  by  Faith. 

"I  have  a  vision,"  he  said  "dim  and  veiled  as  yet,  but 
which  will,  I  predict,  emerge  from  obscurity  to  full  revela- 
tion. In  it  I  see  you  in  our  St.  Petersburg  society,  where 
everything  is  truly  Russian  and  genial.  In  England  one 
goes  into  society  from  an  instinct  of  self-preservation. 
You  must  be  in  the  swim  or  be  eternally  lost!  In  France 
one  goes  to  see  and  be  seen.  In  Germany  it  is  a  duty,  a 
part  of  the  iron  routine  of  life.  In  Italy  one  goes  to  gossip 
and  be  gossiped  about.  But  in  Russia  we  go  frankly  to 
enjoy  ourselves,  and  to  help  others  enjoy  themselves.  We 
really  like  it  and  get  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  out  of  it,  which 
was  doubtless  the  original  intention  of  social  life.  You 
see,  we  are  very  primitive  yet  in  many  of  our  ideas.  We 
still  look  upon  social  pleasures  as  mere  pastimes,  and  fear 
that  to  raise  them  to  the  status  of  duties  would  be  to  render 
them  obnoxious." 

"In  my  country,"  laughed  Faith,  ".our  Puritan  ancestors 
classed  them  as  sins,  and  the  Methodists  do  so  to  this  day. 
Dancing,  card-playing,  the  theatre,  the  opera,  all  are  deadly 
sins!'' 

"Forbidden  fruit!  How  that  enhances  their  sweetness!" 
he  observed, dryly.  "Let  me  see!  'Thou  shalt  not  dance, 
thou  shalt  not  play  cards,  thou  shalt  not  visit  the  ballet, 
thou  — '  heavens !  how  many  commandments  does  that 
make?  We  have  ten  in  my  church,  and  that  is  already 
more  than  any  one  man  has  time  to  keep.  But  then,  with 
all  due  respect  to  your  forefathers,  I  understand  those 
old  Puritans  took  a  grim  joy  in  driving  souls  to  hell." 

142 


"  BACKFISCHLY " 

Faith  glanced  demurely  at  him.  He  had  lighted  a 
cigarette,  and  was  daintily  sipping  a  glass  of  Johannis- 
berger,  looking  well  satisfied  with  the  world  and  its  comforts. 

"They  have  two  more  commandments,"  she  said,  slyly. 
"Thou  shalt  not  smoke,  and  thou  shalt  not  drink  wine!" 

He  stared  at  her.  Then  he  laid  down  the  cigarette  and 
pushed  aside  the  glass.  Her  young  face,  turned  demurely 
away  from  him,  was  alight  with  mischief. 

"My  innocent  pleasures!  You  are  cruel!"  he  exclaimed, 
reproachfully. 

"It  was  such  a  temptation  to  disturb  you!"  she  apolo- 
gized. "You  looked  so  utterly  content." 

"Who  could  be  other  than  content?  This  romantic  spot, 
the  glorious  view,  the  witching  hour,  a  cigarette,  a  glass 
of  wine  and  —  Thou!" 

"Oh,  please  do  not  call  it  'romantic,'"  exclaimed  Faith. 
"Romance  is  such  a  disagreeable  thing!" 

"You  have  found  romance  disagreeable?"  queried  the 
young  officer  in  a  tone  of  polite  incredulity,  and  with  a 
sly  gleam  in  his  handsome,  gray  eyes. 

"  Of  course  I  have  no  experimental  knowledge  of  romance," 
she  replied,  coloring,  "but  in  such  novels  as  I  have  read, 
romance  is  synonymous  with  trouble.  It  means  misunder- 
standings and  separations  and  persecutions,  tears  and  fears 
and  trials  of  all  sorts,  sickness  and  sorrow  and  temptation. 
And  when  at  last  the  troubles  cease  and  the  loved  ones  are 
united,  then  the  story  stops!  The  romance  is  over!  The 
rest  of  life  is  compressed  into  one  sentence  —  'they  lived 
happily  forever  after,'  as  if  that  were  the  antithesis  of 
romance." 

"I  did  not  think  you  could  be  so  cynical,"  he  said,  amused. 

"Am  I  cynical?"  she  asked.  "I  do  not  even  know  what 
cynicism  is." 

"You  are  not  consciously  cynical.  Heaven  forbid! "  smiled 
Dovsprung.  "You  see,  novelists  recognize  the  weaknesses 

143 


FAITH  BRANDON 

of  humanity.  We  can  wail  and  lament  over  our  sorrows 
and  trials,  and  take  the  whole  world  into  our  confidence;  but 
the  moment  things  go  right  with  us  we  accept  it  placidly 
as  our  deserts  and  say  nothing  about  it.  Unless,"  he 
added,  "some  unkind  little  person,  envious  of  our  con- 
tentment, tries  to  fill  us  with  scruples." 

"That  proves  what  an  individual  thing  contentment 
is,"  said  Faith,  sagely.  "For  instance,  I  am  quite  indiffer- 
ent to  —  er  —  cigarettes !  On  the  other  hand,  many  women 
would  be  quite  indifferent  to  things  that  make  me  very 
happy  indeed." 

He  thought  of  Lyift  Petr6vich  and  thought  this  quite 
likely.  "And  are  you  fortunate  enough  to  be  so  very 
happy?  "  he  asked,  with  sentimental  sigh  and  glance. 

She  turned  and  looked  directly  at  him.  "Not  at  all 
happy  to-night,"  she  replied,  frankly.  "I  failed  to  keep 
my  appointment  with  Lyeff  Petrovich  and  it  has  spoiled 
my  whole  evening." 

He  started  up,  deeply  mortified.  "Forgive  me,  Back- 
fischly,  if  it  was  through  fault  of  mine  in  detaining  you!" 
he  exclaimed.  "  God  forbid  that  I  should  ever  come  between 
you  and  your  happiness!"  And  he  looked  truly  penitent 
and  distressed. 

At  midnight  Solntsoff  sauntered  back  to  the  ballroom. 
He  had  played  billiards  for  nearly  two  hours  with  Graf 
Militsyn.  He  hated  billiards,  and  Militsyn  bored  him  to 
extinction.  It  had  been  an  unprofitable  evening.  Pass- 
ing through  the  corridor  he  saw  Dovsprung  escort  the 
ladies  back  to  the  ballroom,  bid  them  an  elaborate  fare- 
well at  the  door,  then  come  out  on  the  terrace,  throw  a 
light  Inverness-cape  over  his  evening  dress  and  start  leisurely 
toward  the  centre  of  the  city. 

Solntsoff  gave  a  snort  of  disgust,  turned  abruptly  away, 
and  hurried  to  join  Lady  Bowen  and  her  young  charge. 
,    Faith's  eyes  met  his  with  a  somewhat  reproachful  glance. 

144 


"BACKFISCHLY" 

"I  thought  we  were  to  have  had  a  waltz  together!" 
she  said. 

"I  supposed  you  wished  to  forget  it,"  he  replied,  dis- 
tantly. "You  were  well  provided  for,  as  you  had  the  best 
dancer  in  St.  Petersburg."^ 

Faith  suppressed  a  giggleT*"  He~  was  actually  jealous. 
How  funny!  This  big,  stately  man  jealous  about  her! 
Surely  she  was  growing  up!  r 

"  I  was  only  a  minute  late,"  she  explained.  "  I  sat  through 
three  dances  hoping  you  would  come  back.  Graf  von 
Dovsprung  dances  beautifully  but  he  is  insufferably  con- 
ceited. It  was  a  stupid  evening  altogether." 

He  ought  surely  to  have  felt  sorry  for  her,  but  he  turned 
his  face  aside  to  smother  a  laugh,  a  man's  cruel  laugh  of 
triumph. 

"You  must  not  judge  Youri  Andrevich  too  severely,  if 
he  is  somewhat  spoiled,"  he  said,  amiably,  quite  restored 
to  good  humor.  A  moment  ago  he  had  thought  contemptu- 
ously of  Dosvprung,  but  now  he  was  full  of  indulgence  for 
him.  "He  is  really  a  splendid  fellow  in  many  respects, 
a  brave,  capable  officer,  a  thoroughly  honest  and  very  bril- 
liant administrator  of  his  department.  He  has  a  warm 
heart,  like  all  true  Russians,  and  is  not  without  his  ideals. 
I  have  known  him  all  my  life,  and  he  was  as  good  and  high- 
minded  a  lad  as  I  ever  met  till  he  was  twenty-two  or  twenty- 
three  years  old,  and  in  many  ways  is  so  still,  although  — 
er 

He  hesitated.  It  was  not  easy  to  explain  to  large-eyed, 
wondering  girlhood  the  subtle  distinctions  that  differenti- 
ate one  man-of-the-world  from  another!  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  resumed. 

"Since  then  our  paths  have  separated.  He  has  been 
military  attache  at  a  number  of  European  courts,  where 
he  was  a  great  social  favorite,  and  you  can  simply  have  no 
idea  of  all  the  flattery  and  courtship  he  has  been  subjected 

145 


FAITH  BRANDON 

to,  —  so  handsome,  so  accomplished,  so  rich !  He  has  gone 
with  a  gay,  ultra-fashionable  set  and  has  gradually  absorbed 
their  careless,  worldly  ideas  and  manners,  while  my  sober 
tastes  have  led  me  to  conservative  and  literary  circles." 

"And  my  tastes,"  thought  Faith,  "lead  me  to  you," 
but  she  could  not  well  say  this  aloud.  "If  he  has  the  ideas 
and  manners  of  the  worldly  set,"  she  remarked,  "then  I 
do  not  like  the  world.  I  feel  more  at  home  with  the  literary 
set  to  which  you  —  and  your  uncle  —  belong."  She  threw 
in  the  uncle's  name  in  a  sudden  panic  for  fear  of  seeming 
too  personal  and  forward. 

And  again  Solntsoff  averted  his  face  to  smother  a  laugh. 

It  was  little  wonder  that  when  the  prince  retired  to  his 
bedroom,  fifteen  minutes  later,  he  should  be  in  the  most 
amiable  and  genial  of  moods.  He  well  knew  that  ninety- 
nine  girls  out  of  a  hundred  would  prefer  Dovsprung  to  him- 
self, but  what  did  it  matter  since  the  hundredth,  who  was 
the  only  one  to  him,  saw  with  d'^ferent  eyes? 

He  hummed  a  cheerful  air  as  he  undressed.  He  was 
just  diving  into  his  nightshirt  when  some  one  knocked. 
Fearing  a  despatch  from  his  uncle,  whose  health  was  a  con- 
stant source  of  anxiety,  he  snatched  up  his  bathrobe  and 
advancing  hastily  but  discreetly  to  the  door,  opened  it  a 
crack  and  peeped  out.  There  stood  Ypuri  Andrevich. 

"I  thought  I  should  find  you  up.  Who  ever  heard  of 
a  Russian  going  to  bed  before  five  in  the  morning?  May 
I  come  in,  Brother?" 

"With  pleasure.    You  did  not  stay  long  at  your  supper." 

Dovsprung  removed  his  Inverness  and  laid  it  with  his 
opera  hat  across  a  chair,  with  great  deliberation.  Then  he 
drew  up  an  armchair  and  settled  himself  slowly  and  com- 
fortably into  it. 

"I  did  not  go,  after  all,"  he  said,  at  length. 

Solntsoff  watched  him  narrowly,  but  made  no  comment. 

"I  need  not  tell  you  that  I  am  no  saint,"  said  Dovsprung 

146 


"BACKFISCHLY" 

after  a  pause,  "but  that  does  not  mean  that  I  am  not  open 
to  fine  impressions.  Somehow,  Lyova,  I  could  not  spend 
half  the  evening  by  the  side  of  —  well,  of  sweetest  innocence 
and  noblest  maidenhood,  and  then  go  straight  to  an  — 
Alixe  de  St.  Quentin  and  her  associates.  Thank  God,  my 
spirit  is  susceptible  to  higher  influences." 

Solntsoff  crossed  the  room  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  other's 
shoulder.  "Yurochka,"  he  said  with  emotion,  "you  have 
a  heart  and  a  conscience,  if  you  would  only  be  guided  by 
them  of tener.  Why  do  you  not  do  justice  to  your  nobler, 
better  self?  You  ought  to  settle  down  and  marry  some  good, 
affectionate,  companionable  girl  and  you  would  find  your- 
self a  very  happy  man,  and  she  would,  I  feel  sure,  have  a 
model  husband." 

"Unfortunately,"  said  Dovsprung,  with  a  short,  harsh 
laugh,  "you  have  monopolized  the  first  one  that  has  ap- 
pealed to  my  cynical  heart  since  my  boyish  days  when  I 
was  betrothed  to  a  little  kinswoman,  my  young  sister's 
dearest  friend."  He  drew  a  deep  sigh.  "They  both  died 
before  I  was  twenty  years  of  age,  but  for  their  sakes  young 
girlhood  has  always  been  holy  to  me.  Since  I  have  been 
a  man  of  the  world  my  tastes  have  been,  as  you  know,  for 
the  society  of  older,  more  sophisticated  women;  the  clever, 
alluring  type  of  married  woman,  a  little  out  of  tune  with 
matrimony,  who  begins  as  the  intellectual,  sympathetic 
friend,  the  spiritual  confidante  who  wishes  to  convert 
you,  and  ends"  —  he  gave  a  cynical  half  smile  —  "by 
preferring  you  unconverted!  I  never  imagined  [myself 
capable  of  being  interested  again  in  an  unsophisticated 
Backfischly." 

Solntsoff  had  grown  very  pale.  Why  should  this  man, 
courted  and  beloved  by  so  many  fair  women,  begrudge 
him  his  one  ewe-lamb? 

"I  think  I  explained  to  you,"  he  Said,  coldly,  "that  my 
intentions  toward  Miss  Brandon  were  serious.  I  have  been 


FAITH  BRANDON 

the  first  to  enter  the  lists,  and  I  intend  to  hold  them  against 
all  comers.  It  will  be  a  struggle  to  the  death!" 

Dovsprung  looked  up  in  surprise.  "Of  course  I  under- 
stand you,  Brother,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "and  you  must 
not  misunderstand  me.  When  have  I  ever  come  between 
any  man  and  his  intended  bride?  Should  I  forget  honor 
for  the  first  time  when  it  touches  a  friend?  No,  I  am  not 
thinking  of  matrimony.  This  is  a  purely  spiritual  impres- 
sion, which  will  soon  wear  away,  leaving  me  the  same  old 
'Georgiy  Pobyedondsets.'" 

It  was  this  name,  signifying  "St.  George  the  Victorious," 
which  had  been  bestowed  on  Dovsprung  in  fashionable 
clubs  and  drawing-rooms,  after  he  had  been  decorated  by  the 
Emperor  with  the  Cross  of  St.  George  the  Victorious  *  for  his 
heroic  services  in  the  trans-Caspian;  his  name  "Youri" 
being  a  Slavic  form  for  "George." 

"Do  not  speak  as  if  you  had  always  been  the  same,"  said 
Solntsoff,  gravely.  "I  can  remember  the  days  when  you 
were  still  truly  'Saint'  George,  and  a  happier  man  than  now, 
in  spite  of  your  bravado." 

"It  is  all  in  the  point  of  view,"  said  Dovsprung,  with  a 
careless  laugh.  "I  am  more  sophisticated  now  and  could 
no  longer  be  happy  in  the  old  way.  But  I  still  have  prin- 
ciples that  guide  and  restrain  me,  though  not  the  same  as 
yours." 

"No!"  retorted  Solntsoff.  "There  was  a  time  when  our 
principles  were  the  same,  but  now  they  are  as  far  apart 
as  the  poles.  Our  views  of  life  are  as  dissimilar  as  if  we 
lived  in  different  solar  systems." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Dovsprung,  slowly,  half  closing  his  eyes, 
"perhaps  the  difference  is  not  as  great  as  you  think.  Our 
views  are  not  so  far  apart  but  that  I  can  come  openly  to 
you  to  lay  my  tribute  on  the  shrine  you  worship  at." 

*  The  Cross  of  St.  George  is  bestowed  for  personal  bravery.  It 
corresponds  to  the  Victoria  Cross  of  England,  except  that  it  is  for  officers 
only. 

148 


"BACKFISCHLY" 

Solntsoff  flushed.  He  held  out  his  hand.  "If  I  have 
been  unjust,  forgive  me!  '  he  said.  "If  I  have  been  harsh 
in  condemning  you,  it  is  for  the  very  affection  and  respect 
I  still  bear  you." 

Dovsprung  rose,  and  the  two  men  embraced  with  some 
emotion. 

Before  settling  to  rest  Solntsoff  spent  some  minutes  at 
his  orisons  before  the  Ikona,  the  picture  of  the  Saviour, 
which  he  had  hung  by  his  bedside.  In  addition  to  his  usual 
night  prayers,  in  which  he  remembered  his  dear  Little  Com- 
rade, all  his  family  living  and  dead,  his  own  special  interests 
and  the  welfare  of  beloved  Russia,  he  threw  in  a  good  word 
to  the  Heavenly  Powers  for  his  somewhat  cynical  and  un- 
principled but  not  wholly  corrupted  friend.  Then  he  turned 
into  bed,  and  with  one  hand  clasping  the  silver  cross  that 
hung  from  his  neck,  he  quickly  settled  down  to  profoundest 
slumber. 

And  the  grave  eyes  of  the  pictured  Christ  seemed  to  gaze 
with  complacency  at  His  "good  and  faithful  servant." 

Dovsprung  also  said  his  prayers,  after  a  fashion  of  his 
own.  He,  too,  had  ensconced  an  Ikona  of  exquisite  work- 
manship in  a  corner  of  the  room.  He  was  a  Russian  and 
certain  early  ingrained  practices  of  faith  still  clung  to  him, 
even  after  years  of  indifference  and  sin.  Having  expected 
to  return  at  an  indefinitely  late  hour  he  had  dismissed  his 
man  early  in  the  evening,  for  he  was  a  considerate  master, 
and  was  now  struggling  out  of  his  dress-suit  alone.  It  was 
a  saving  of  time,  perhaps  also,  a  saving  of  thought,  to  sand- 
wich in  his  abbreviated  orisons  between  the  various  prep- 
arations for  bed.  He  kicked  off  his  shoes.  "'Glory  to 
the  Father!'"  he  began,  "'and  to  the  Son,  and  to'  — the 
devil!  Where  did  that  lazy  Astafi  put  my  slippers?  If  I 
had  known  —  but  how  the  deuce  was  I  to  foresee  that  a 
child  like  that  would  disarrange  all  my  well-laid  plans?  It 
is  that  maddening  blend  of  innocence  and  distinction,  of 

149 


FAITH  BRANDON 

honesty  and  breeding,  of  intelligence  and  guilelessness. 
Er  —  where  was  I?  'Glory  to  the  Father  and  to  the  Son  and 
to  the  Holy  Spirit,  for  the  eternal  ages.'"  Here  he  crossed 
himself  and  bowed  deeply.  "It  is  just  as  well  to  leave 
before  the  illusion  is  dispelled."  Here  he  fastened  his  night- 
shirt and,  drawing  out  the  small,  beautifully  enameled  cross, 
which  he  wore  suspended  from  a  gold  chain  about  his  neck, 
he  kissed  it,  blessed  himself  with  it  and  thrust  it  back 
into  place  again,  saying  rapidly,  "Christ,  Redeemer  of  the 
world,  have  mercy!  Holy-Pure  Mother  of  God,  bless  us 
and  pray  for  us,  and  keep  in  eternal  remembrance  the  souls 
of  the  departed  dear  ones!" 

This  done,  he  felt  that  the  necessities  of  devotion  had  been 
complied  with.  To  be  sure,  in  his  youth  he  had  been  taught 
to  make  an  act  of  sorrow  for  his  sins  before  going  to  sleep, 
in  preparation  for  possible  sudden  death,  but  that  was  one 
of  the  things  that  had  been  omitted  from  his  prayers  in  their 
abbreviation.  For  the  formula  of  repentance  contains  a 
resolution  to  turn  from  sin  and  amend  one's  ways,  and  this 
he  did  not  feel  prepared  to  make.  "I  am  no  hypocrite," 
he  said,  virtuously,  feeling  that  this  sincerity  on  his  part 
must  somehow  meet  with  the  approval  of  the  Most  High 
and  atone  for  his  failure  to  commit  himself  by  any  promises 
of  reform,  made  only  to  be  broken  at  the  first  desirable 
opportunity.  So  far  as  his  prayers  went  they  were  sincere, 
for  he  certainly  hoped  for  mercy  and  a  lenient  judgment, 
for  many  blessings  in  this  world,  and  all  the  joys  of  heaven 
hereafter.  And  he  had  no  doubt  but  that  he  should  obtain 
them.  "We  are  not  all  fitted  for  the  cloister,  and  God 
understands  it,"  he  said,  easily.  So  he  hoped  on,  for  hope 
is  consoling  and  commits  one  to  nothing. 

He  darkened  the  room  and  disposed  himself  to  slumber. 

"She  is  such  a  sympathetic  listener!  It  is  that,  I  suppose, 
that  charms  the  conceited  and  garrulous  Lyeff  Petrovich. 
I  had  forgotten  he  had  such  a  disagreeable,  priggish  temper. 


"BACKFISCHLY" 

Perhaps  her  father  will  not  consent.  Lyova's  means  are 
very  limited,  and  Americans  care  so  much  for  money.  What 
then?"  He  checked  himself  suddenly.  "What  then,  in- 
deed! How  long  could  a  little  schoolgirl  like  that  hold 
me?  I  would  not  marry  the  child  to  break  her  heart,  but 
am  I  ready  to  change  my  life  for  her?  ready,  at  thirty- 
three,  to  settle  down  into  a  commonplace,  dutiful  husband 
and  conscientious  father  of  a  family?  I  can  give  up  my 
pleasures  once  for  her  sake,  and  even  feel  it  sweet  to  do  so, 
but  —  would  it  last?  As  our  Russian  proverb  says  'a  wife 
is  not  a  guitar;  when  your  playing  is  done  you  can't  hang 
her  upon  the  wall!'  Could  I  go  on,  day  in  and  day  out, 
year  in  and  year  out,  with  no  amusement,  no  variety  in 
the  way  of  charming  friendships,  tender  flirtations,  thrilh'ng 
conquests  —  nothing  but  the  stupid  routine  of  official  and 
conjugal  life,  long  dull  evenings  at  home,  with  unvarying 
companionship,  cloying  affection,  poorly  cooked  meals,  the 
monotony  broken  only  by  wrangling  domestics  and  fret- 
ful children?" 

He  shuddered.  "What  then,  indeed!"  He  was  bored 
to  death  already  by  the  picture.  With  an  impatient  ges- 
ture he  turned  on  his  side.  There  was  a  moment's  silence 
then  — 

"I  begin  to  think  I  acted  like  a  fool!"  muttered  "Georgiy 
Pobyedonosets,"  drowsily. 

The  lamp  burning  before  the  Ikona  threw  its  soft  rosy 
light  upon  the  face  of  the  sleeping  man,  and  the  pictured 
eyes  of  the  thorn-crowned  Christ  looked  gravely  down 
upon  this  wayward  son. 

But  the  countenance  of  the  celestial  guardian,  so  often 
veiled  and  shamed,  was  lifted  joyfully,  appealingly  to 
heaven  as  though  saying,"  Father,  he  hath  refrained  from 
evil  company  for  the  sake  of  one  of  Thy  little  ones.  Let 
it  be  counted  to  him  for  righteousness!" 


PART  II 
CHAPTER  XI 

A    BOLT    FROM   THE    BLUE 

"With  thee,  the  wind  and  sky  are  fair, 
But  parted,  both  are  strange  and  dark, 
And  treacherous  the  quiet  air  — 
Oh,  shield  my  love,  strong  Arm  above!" 

—  Meredith. 

Two  days  after  Faith's  departure  from  Yalta,  Genevieve 
Brandon  had  the  mortification  of  seeing  Prince  Solntsoff 
leave  on  the  weekly  steamer  for  Constantinople.  Evidently 
the  game  was  up. 

"I  was  a  fool  not  to  have  let  him  know  that  she  had  no 
dowry,  that  Sophy  and  I  had  all  the  money,"  she  grumbled 
to  herself. 

She  and  her  sister  took  the  steamer  for  Athens  the  follow- 
ing week.  While  there  she  received  a  lengthy  letter  from 
Bishop  Ludlow. 

"  I  and  my  son  were  very  favorably  impressed  with 
Prince  Solntsoff,  whose  moral  character,  my  nephew  assures 
me,  is  irreproachable"  (wrote  his  lordship). 

"Stuff! "interrupted  Genevieve.  " Solntsoff  and  Milbanke 
are  birds  of  a  feather,  and  Milbanke  is  hoping  to  be 
promoted  to  the  Russian  embassy.  The  bishop  is  a  bom- 
bastic old  snob,  who  is  overjoyed  to  associate  with  princes 
and  future  viscounts.  How  he  longs  to  be  able  to  say  'my 
nephew,  Lord  Solway,'  and  'my  niece,  Princess  Solntsova.' 
He  would  swallow  a  good  deal  for  that."  Then  she  read  on: 

152 


A  BOLT  FROM  THE  BLUE 

"Your  father  having  deferred  to  my  judgment  in  the 
matter,  I  decided  that  the  engagement  shall  not  be  an- 
nounced till  her  seventeenth  birthday;  but  meanwhile  I 
have  permitted  an  understanding,  the  marriage  to  be  con- 
ditional upon  his  recognizing  the  Anglo-Catholic  position." 

"Which  of  course  he  will  do,  if  Milbanke  and  the  bishop 
make  it  worth  his  while  by  giving  the  girl  a  good  dowry!" 
sneered  Genevieve.  "Pah!  Those  High-Churchmen  make 
me  tired.  Protestantism  is  no  longer  good  enough  for  them 
with  their  'Apostolic  Succession'  and  'Anglo-Catholic  posi- 
tion.' Give  me  Unitarianism!  There  you  have  a  Protest- 
antism that  is  logical." 

Sophy  looked  up  in  surprise.  She  had  no  idea  that 
Genevieve  was  so  interested  in  theology.  She  herself  was  a 
devout  and  regular  attendant  at  the  First  Unitarian  Church, 
but  Genevieve  had  not  entered  a  church  half  a  dozen  times 
in  as  many  years.  Of  course,  the  Unitarians  were  the 
most  intellectual  of  any  denomination,  that  was  universally 
acknowledged,  —  in  Boston  at  least.  But  still  there  was 
something  very  impressive  about  the  Episcopal  liturgy,  and 
Bishop  Ludlow  read  the  service  in  such  an  inspired  manner. 
Sophy  was  guiltily  conscious  of  a  secret  liking  for  robes  and 
ceremonials  and  stained-glass  windows,  but  having  other 
burdens  on  her  conscience  as  well,  she  dared  make  no 
comments. 

Genevieve  tossed  her  head  scornfully.  "Really,"  she 
exclaimed,  "I  am  astonished  that  they  do  not  present  her 
at  court  at  once !  But  let  them  do  as  they  please,  I  wash 
my  hands  of  the  whole  affair." 

The  bishop,  however,  could  devise  no  better  plan  than 
that  already  settled  upon  by  Miss  Brandon.  It  was  not 
advisable  for  Faith  to  be  in  Constantinople  for  her  win- 
ter's work,  and  Rupert  would  not  be  settled  in  his  new 
quarters  at  Brussels  before  the  early  spring.  Therefore 
she  accompanied  Lady  Bowen  to  Leipsic  and  was  placed  in 

153 


FAITH  BRANDON 

a  German  family  to  pursue  a  course  of  study,  while  her 
uncle  traveled  in  the  Holy  Land,  her  cousin  returned  to 
college,  and  her  sisters  joined  friends  in  a  yachting  trip. 

And  throughout  the  autumn  and  winter  Faith  studied 
assiduously,  and  devoured  historical  works  and  political 
reviews,  for  was  she  not  preparing  herself  to  be  the  com- 
panion of  a  man  in  public  life  and  of  literary  tastes?  Her 
Sundays  were  consecrated  to  the  books  lent  her  by  her  lover 
on  the  doctrines  and  history  of  his  Church,  and  also  to  the 
somewhat  ponderous  controversial  tomes  prescribed  by  her 
uncle.  Nor  did  she  neglect  the  practical  things  of  existence. 
The  prince  had  told  her  that  he  was  a  poor  man,  that  they 
must  live  modestly,  as  middle-class  people.  So  once  every 
week  she  accompanied  her  German  landlady  to  market  and 
into  the  kitchen,  and  was  duly  initiated  by  her  into  the 
mysteries  of  household  economics  and  forearmed  against  the 
iniquities  of  domestics  and  tradespeople. 

Rupert  Milbanke,  stopping  on  his  westward  journey  in 
the  spring  to  see  Faith,  thought  her  looking  a  little  pale 
from  overstudy  and  from  the  confinement  of  city  life  and  lack 
of  amusement.  Or,  was  it  the  general  unbecomingness  of 
the  Misses  Brandon's  cast-off  frocks  and  hats?  At  any  rate, 
he  advised  her  acceptance  of  an  invitation  from  her  Yalta 
friends,  the  Alyonkins,  to  spend  a .  month  at  Easter  with 
them  at  their  villa  at  Territet  on  Lake  Geneva,  and  pre- 
sented his  grateful  and  enraptured  little  sister  with  a  gener- 
ous check  wherewith  to  renew  her  wardrobe  from  top  to  toe. 

"Mind,  you  are  not  to  use  as  much  as  a  handkerchief 
that  has  ever  belonged  to  anybody  else!"  he  declared, 
peremptorily. 

Lady  Bowen  promised  to  follow  her  to  Switzerland  a 
little  later,  and  Rupert  escorted  Faith  to  Territet,  giving 
her  a  few  days'  outing  on  the  way  at  Munich,  to  hear 
the  opera  there. 


A  BOLT  FROM  THE  BLUE 

"I  shall  be  ready  for  you  in  a  few  weeks,  and  your  home 
shall  be  with  me  till  you  marry,  though,  of  course,  at  your 
age,  you  are  not  yet  entertaining  thoughts  of  matrimony," 
teased  the  big  brother. 

One  week  of  her  visit  with  the  hospitable,  warm-hearted 
Alyonkins  had  passed  in  the  delightful  simplicity  of  the 
open-air  life  in  the  pleasant  Swiss  watering-place,  when 
Faith  received  a  letter  from  her  sister  Genevieve,  which 
made  her  heart  sink  in  dismay. 

The  ways  of  Providence  are  full  of  mystery.  How  it 
could  happen  that,  on  a  five-weeks'  cruise  among  the  Isles  of 
Greece,  the  one  eligible  man  of  the  party,  thrown  in  daily 
propinquity  with  both  sisters,  should  choose  the  plain, 
uninteresting  Sophy  instead  of  her  graceful,  clever  sister, 
Genevieve  Brandon  could  not  comprehend! 

He  had  first  seemed  drawn  to  herself,  and  perhaps  she  had 
felt  too  sure  of  her  conquest;  but  by  scarcely  perceptible 
degrees  he  had  slipped  away  from  her  control,  and  before 
she  fully  realized  his  changed  position  the  game  was  lost. 
The  Honorable  Gerard  Trevor,  member  of  Parliament, 
brother  of  Lord  Dugdale,  with  a  country  house  and  an  in- 
come of  eight  thousand  pounds  a  year  in  his  own  right, 
had  actually  proposed  to  Sophy  Brandon  and  been  grate- 
fully and  tremblingly  accepted  by  that  insignificant  spinster. 
Genevieve  felt  that,  for  the  third  time,  she  had  played 
her  cards  badly  and  let  a  title  slip  away  from  her  grasp. 
In  the  other  instances  she  could  hardly  blame  herself. 
When  she  had  slighted  Rupert  Milbanke  and  ridiculed  his 
Briticisms,  she  could  not  foresee  that  he  would  so  soon  be 
an  eligible  widower.  When  she  had  left  Faith  at  Yalta 
she  did  not  know  that  the  big,  fair  man  about  whom  the 
little  schoolgirl  was  so  silly  was  a  distinguished  writer,  of 
an  historic,  princely  family,  with  a  brilliant  position  at 
court.  But  this  yachting  trip  had  been  of  her  own  devising. 
She  had  met  the  Trev  ladies  in  Athens,  had  heard  them 


FAITH  BRANDON 

speak  of  their  brother  and  his  enthusiasm  for  yachting,  and 
she  had  successfully  brought  about  this  autumnal  cruise 
and  its  golden  opportunity.  And  now,  through  no  fault 
of  hers  that  she  could  see,  the  prize  had  fallen  to  the  wrong 
one!  It  was  absurd!  How  Genevieve  would  have  queened 
it  in  London  as  the  wife  of  a  rising  member  of  Parliament, 
how  gracefully  she  would  have  entertained  at  week-ends  in 
Leicestershire!  In  time  he  would  be  knighted,  or  made  a 
peer,  and  she  would  be  Lady  Trevor.  But  the  cup  had  been 
dashed  from  her  lips  and  given  to  Sophy,  the  old  maid, 
the  near-sighted  student,  the  goody-goody  worker  in  the 
Associated  Charities  and  College  Settlements. 

And  somehow  Sophy,  with  the  wonder,  the  unexpected- 
ness, the  happiness  of  it  all  illuminating  her  face,  no  longer 
looked  plain  and  unattractive.  Perhaps  Genevieve  had 
never  before  done  her  justice.  The  clear-headed,  kind- 
hearted,  good-principled  young  woman  had  a  blind  devotion 
to  her  more  beautiful  and  pretentious  sister,  and  had  weakly 
allowed  herself  to  be  so  completely  dominated  by  her  that 
she  had  lost  her  respect,  and  Genevieve  never  took  Sophy 
seriously  into  account  in  any  of  her  calculations.  But  the 
esteem  and  affection  of  an  able  and  manly  man  had  trans- 
formed the  thirty-year-old  bachelor-girl;  and  it  was  a  new 
Sophy  that  Genevieve  looked  at  with  heightened  respect, 
but  with  an  exceeding  bitter  spirit. 

Then  came  lonely  days.  Genevieve  missed  inexpressibly 
the  unselfish,  devoted  companionship  of  the  useful  and  self- 
effacing  Sophy,  who  was  visiting  the  relatives  of  her  future 
husband  in  England.  In  this  emergency  her  thoughts 
turned  toward  her  younger  sister.  Their  father  was  making 
Faith  a  liberal  allowance  for  board,  education,  and  travel- 
ing expenses,  far  too  liberal,  Genevieve  thought,  for  the 
requirements  of  a  schoolgirl;  and  Faith  would  have  little 
use  for  it,  as  she  was  planning  visits  with  Russian  friends 
and,  later,  was  to  live  with  her  brother.  But,  if  the  two 

156 


A  BOLT  FROM  THE  BLUE 

sisters  were  to  join  forces,  they  could  divide  between  them 
the  expenses  of  a  sitting-room  and  of  various  other  luxuries 
which  Genevieve  felt  were  indispensable  to  the  comforts 
of  travel  and  hotel  life. 

"Since  Sophy's  engagement  I  am  left  very  lonely,"  wrote 
the  older  sister,  "for  I  am  entirely  cut  off  from  her  society 
in  the  future  from  reasons  of  delicacy.  Of  course  you  must 
never  breathe  this  to  a  soul,  but  Trevor  first  wanted  to  marry 
me.  However,  I  could  not  consider  it,  and  am  very  glad 
for  her  sake  that  he  afterward  turned  to  Sophy.  But 
you  can  see  that,  under  the  circumstances,  it  would  be  very 
tactless  for  me  ever  to  visit  them.  Until  Father  is  ready 
for  us  to  keep  house  in  Boston,  it  will  be  best  that  you  and 
I  should  join  forces.  It  is  a  more  economical  arrangement; 
it  will  give  me  companionship  and  give  you  the  protection 
and  advice  of  an  older  woman,  always  so  necessary  to  an 
inexperienced  young  girl.  I  should  like  to  try  the  climate 
of  Switzerland,  and  will  come  to  Montreux  for  the  Easter 
season  with  my  friends,  Mrs.  Brown  ell  and  the  Misses 
Staffney,  of  a  fine  Connecticut  family,  with  whom  I  have 
been  traveling  since  we  returned  from  Greece.  We  shall 
go  to  the  Pension  Witzen-Elias,  where,  I  hear,  there  are 
English-speaking  people.  It  is  very  near  the  place  you  are 
visiting,  and  you  will,  of  course,  join  me  there  at  once." 

It  was  a  hard  struggle  for  Faith  to  resign  herself  to  this 
prospect,  to  shorten  her  stay  with  the  pleasant  Alyonkins 
and  delay  indefinitely  her  visit  to  Rupert.  But  her  heart 
softened  toward  Genevieve  in  her  loneliness,  and  she  could 
see  that  it  was  the  natural  and  obvious  thing  for  two  sisters 
to  be  together.  When  the  kindly,  affectionate  Russians 
demurred  at  her  cutting  her  visit  short,  she  promised  to 
come  over  daily  from  Montreux  to  see  them.  But  she 
had  reckoned  without  her  host.  When  Faith  proposed  to 
walk  to  Territet  on  the  following  day,  her  sister  interfered. 

"Have  you  no  delicacy?"  exclaimed  Genevieve.     "How 


FAITH  BRANDON 

could  your  brother  think  of  letting  you  stay  there,  with 
big  boys  of  your  own  age,  and  only  that  one  poor  woman, 
with  a  perfect  brute  of  a  husband?  It  is  no  place  for  a 
young  girl  to  visit!" 

"But  he  is  not  a  brute!"  cried  Faith,  indignantly.  "He 
is  devoted  to  his  wife  and  spends  half  his  days  with  her, 
reading  aloud  to  her  or  taking  her  to  drive.  And  the  boys 
just  worship  the  ground  she  treads  on,  and  are  so  fond  of 
their  little  brothers  and  sisters." 

"The  count  is  a  red-faced  old  roue"  insisted  Genevieve, 
who  knew  nothing  whatever  of  his  habits.  "He  may  appear 
to  you  to  be  kind  and  pleasant,  but  he  is  simply  brutal  to  his 
wife,  and  no  one  knows  what  she  has  to  endure.  A  raft  of 
children  like  that!  It  is  positively  revolting!" 

The  tears  stood  in  Faith's  eyes.  "They  think  it  is  a 
blessing  from  heaven,"  she  said,  loyally.  "The  Bible  says 
so,  too!" 

"Oh,  the  Bible!"  sneered  Genevieve.  "Those  were  times 
when  people  lived  in  tents  and  the  women  had  no  books, 
no  education,  no  social  life  and  few  household  cares. 
If  it  amused  them  to  have  children,  then  it  was  right  for 
them  to  have  big  families;  but  nowadays  women  have  other 
interests  and  duties,  have  many  careers  open  to  them.  You 
might  as  well  expect  the  men  to  go  back  to  the  pastoral 
life  and  give  up  science  and  art  and  modern  civilization,  as 
expect  the  women  of  to-day  to  give  up  their  lives  to  tend- 
ing herds  of  babies." 

"But  the  countess's  life  isn't  given  up  to  that  alone," 
said  Faith,  eagerly.  "She  says  she  has  splendid  oppor- 
tunities to  educate  herself  reading  and  studying  up  with 
her  husband  and  children  the  subjects  they  are  inter- 
ested in.  She  is  a  very  cultivated  and  accomplished 
woman,  and  she  has  picked  up  nearly  all  of  it  since  her 
marriage." 

"It  must  be  very  superficial  at  best,"  said  Genevieve, 
158 


A  BOLT  FROM  THE  BLUE 

contemptuously.  "And  of  what  earthly  use  is  it  to  her, 
shut  up  at  home  as  she  is  all  the  time?  But  these  are  not 
proper  subjects  for  a  young  girl  to  discuss.  You  must  not 
go  over  there,  and  let  that  end  it!" 

Faith  submitted,  for  it  was  a  question  of  delicacy,  and 
Genevieve  knew  more  about  such  matters  than  she  did. 
But  she  was  very  lonely  without  these  friends,  for  Gene- 
vieve spent  all  her  time  with  the  three  American  ladies, 
leaving  Faith  entirely  to  her  own  devices,  till  the  girl  began 
to  wonder  why  her  companionship  had  been  desired  at  all. 

However,  she  had  happy  employment  for  her  leisure  hours 
corresponding  with  Lyeff  Petrovich.  He  had  been  sent 
on  a  special  mission  to  Teheran,  which  had  lasted  five 
months.  Now  he  was  in  attendance  on  the  Emperor  at 
Petergof,  coming  in  to  the  capital  three  times  a  week  for  his 
work  at  the  Foreign  Office.  His  letters  were  full  of  interest- 
ing details  about  his  Persian  journey,  his  work  at  the  office, 
his  life  at  Court.  He  told  her  of  playing  tennis  and  canoeing 
with  the  Gosudar,*  of  the  Imperatritsa's  clever  caricature 
drawings,  of  the  amusing  sayings  of  the  little  grand-prin- 
cesses. He  told  of  boating  parties  on  the  Gulf  of  Finland,  he 
described  the  many  distinguished  visitors  and  the  various 
national  deputations  received  daily  at  the  palace,  and 
gave  amusing  anecdotes  and  witty  comments.  But  they 
were  the  letters  of  a  "big  friend"  to  his  "little  comrade," 
rather  than  of  a  lover  to  his  betrothed. 

And  Faith,  on  her  side,  wrote  fully,  sympathetically,  but 
as  to  a  kind  older  brother,  for  had  not  Rupert  warned  her 
to  be  discreet? 

"In  corresponding  with  any  man,  whether  engaged  to 

*  The  state  title  of  the  Emperor  is  "Imperator"  and  "Autocrat 
(Samoderzhets)  of  all  the  Russias."  The  title  "Tsar"  is  historic  only. 
The  court  title  of  the  Emperor  is  "Gosudar  (Lord)  Imperator";  of  the 
Empress,  "Gosudarina  Imperatritsa."  The  heir-apparent's  title  is 
"  Naslednik-TsesareVich."  They  are  familiarly  spoken  of  as  "  Gosudar, " 
''Imperatritsa,"  and  "Nastednik"  (Successor).  The  titles  "Tsar"  and 
''Tsaritsa"  are  never  used  in  Russia  by  educated  people. 

159 


FAITH  BRANDON 

him  or  not,"  he  had  said,  "remember  that  no  matter  how 
cautious  and  honorable  he  may  be,  there  is  always  danger 
of  letters  falling  into  the  hands  of  those  they  were  not 
intended  for,  or  going  astray  in  the  mails.  Never  write 
anything  in  them  that  you  are  not  willing  should  be  read 
by  a  third  person.  It  is  a  safe  general  rule  to  follow. 
Also,  do  not  write  oftener  to  him  than  he  does  to  you. 
Answer  each  letter  as  it  comes,  but  let  that  be  all." 

"I  will  remember,"  promised  Faith.  .  "I  will  be  discreet." 
But  in  spite  of  this  necessary  reticence,  what  a  delight  it  was 
to  correspond  with  her  Big  Friend,  to  express  her  sympathy 
with  all  that  concerned  him,  to  tell  him  of  her  studies,  her 
interests,  her  impressions  of  the  books  he  had  recommended 
her  to  read,  and  to  receive  in  return  his  kindly  comments, 
his  wise  direction,  his  unfailing  comprehension.  How  it 
softened  the  separation  to  receive  the  thick  manuscripts 
that  reached  her  twice  a  week  with  such  clock-like 
regularity! 

Nor  was  this  her  only  correspondence.  There  were 
frequent  and  amusing  letters  from  Rupert  and  from  her 
cousin,  friendly  and  pleasant  ones  from  the  Stourdzas,  while 
every  week  brought  a  tenderly  affectionate,  though  some- 
what formal  note  from  one  or  other  of  the  dear  maiden- 
aunts  in  Mt.  Vernon  Street;  and.  the  Easter  holidays 
had  favored  her  with  a  lengthy,  serious  letter  of  good  advice 
for  the  formation  of  womanly  character  from  the  father  who 
had  been  content  to  live  nearly  seventeen  years  in  almost 
total  ignorance  of  the  character  of  this  particular  specimen 
of  young  womanhood  for  whose  existence  he  was  responsible. 

Then  into  the  monotony  of  these  long,  quiet,  autumn 
weeks  there  dropped  a  bomb  in  the  shape  of  a  letter  from 
Bishop  Ludlow. 

The  bishop  had  been  charmed  with  his  reception  in 
Russia.  He  had  gone  to  Moscow,  to  Kiyef,  and  other 
large  cities,  armed  with  letters  of  introduction  to  the  hier- 

160 


A  BOLT  FROM  THE  BLUE 

archy  and  to  leading  personages  in  the  literary  and  religious 
life  of  these  places,  and  had  been  received  with  a  courtesy, 
a  cordiality,  a  large-heartedness  and  freedom  from  pre- 
judice that  wholly  captivated  him.  He  talked  freely 
to  the  higher  clergy  and  to  the  laity  of  his  ideas  for 
the  reunion  of  Christendom  through  the  middle-road 
of  the  Church  of  England,  the  "Anglo-Catholic  Church," 
he  called  it;  and  everywhere  he  found  polite,  attentive 
listeners.  It  did  not  occur  to  him  to  try  to  gather  their 
views  of  the  Anglican  position.  His  mission  was  more 
directly  to  enlighten  them  as  to  the  Anglican  view  of  their 
own  position,  and  they  did  not  seem  inclined  to  obtrude 
their  opinions. 

He  was  very  thankful  indeed  that  he  had  taken  this 
journey  without  his  wife  and  son.  For  his  fellow  bishops 
of  the  Orthodox  Church  were  all  celibates,  the  higher 
orders  of  the  clergy  being  appointed  from  the  "black," 
or  celibate,  monastic  clergy.  It  seemed  to  give  them  a 
certain  dignity,  a  holy  aloofness,  in  contrast  to  the  bishops 
whom  he  had  met  in  England  accompanied  by  their  fash- 
ionably dressed  helpmates.  The  "white,"  or  parish  clergy, 
on  the  contrary,  were  married;  and  here  he  made  one  of  the 
few  mistakes  with  which  he  had  to  reproach  himself,  for, 
meeting  a  young,  unmarried  clergyman,  he  had  laughingly 
advised  him  to  make  haste  in  choosing  a  helpmate. 

"But  I  cannot  marry!"  said  the  young  man,  looking  as 
nearly  shocked  as  a  polite,  kind-hearted  and  slow-blooded 
Slav  is  capable  of  looking.  "I  have  already  received  Holy 
Orders,  and  one  cannot  marry  after  one  is  ordained." 

The  bishop  hastened  to  inform  himself  further  on  the 
question.  "No,  our  clergy  do  not  marry,"  explained  the 
archimandrite  to  whom  he  applied.  "We  encourage,  we 
almost  require  our  candidates  for  the  secular  priesthood  to 
be  married  men,  but  the  marriage  must  have  taken  place 
before  they  receive  Holy  Orders." 

161 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"But  if  the  parochial  clergy  may  be  married,  why  not 
the  higher  clergy?"  asked  the  bishop.  "Why  are  not 
your  married  priests  raised  to  the  dignities  of  the  church?" 

"It  is  best  for  them  to  be  disinterestedly  devoted  to 
their  parishes  and  not  troubled  by  dreams  of  power  and 
advancement.  But  the  celibate  clergy,  living  under  the 
discipline  of  the  monastic  rule,  having  abundant  time  for 
study,  and  wholly  untrammeled  by  family  cares,  are  better 
formed  for  the  administration  of  the  Church's  affairs.  I 
may  add  that  our  celibate  clergy  is  far  more  respected  and 
popular  than  our  married  clergy.  The  people  are  ideal- 
ists. They  do  not  like  their  priests  to  live  too  much  the 
lives  of  the  laity.  They  prefer  to  have  them  set  apart  and 
consecrated  to  a  higher  life." 

At  this  point  our  bishop  thought  best  to  change  the 
subject  to  that  of  the  political  outlook.  His  observations 
had,  however,  in  one  particular,  brought  distinct  consola- 
tion to  his  spirit.  It  was  evident  that  the  Russian  clergy 
were  not  a  factor  in  the  social  life  of  the  country.  Even 
the  bishops  had  not  the  aristocratic  position  held  by 
the  higher  clergy  in  the  Church  of  England  or  in 
the  life  of  American  communities,  while  the  parochial 
clergy  were  classed  with  the  peasantry,  rather  than  with 
the  gentry.  This  lack  of  social  dignity  and  influence  coun- 
terbalanced, in  his  mind,  their  seemingly  greater  as- 
cendancy over  the  people  in  things  spiritual.  It  was 
largely  on  this  ground  that  he  had  decided  not  to  visit  St. 
Petersburg  during  the  coming  summer,  while  the  members 
of  the  government  and  the  aristocracy  were  scattered  in 
the  country  or  at  the  seaside.  As  for  the  clergy,  not  belong- 
ing to  aristocratic  circles  they  could  be  met  at  any  season. 
He  had  heard  that  the  Swedish  State  Church  had  an  epis- 
copate, and  had  retained  more  of  Catholic  doctrine  and 
ritual  than  other  Lutheran  bodies.  It  would  be  a  wise 
plan  to  examine  into  conditions  in  Sweden  while  waiting 

162 


A  BOLT  FROM  THE  BLUE 

for  a  favorable  season  to  visit  St.  Petersburg.  The  im- 
pressions of  his  Swedish  visit  were  sketched  in  the  following 
letter. 

"My  dear  Miss  Brandon,"  it  said,  for  it  was  addressed 
to  Genevieve: 

"My  six  weeks  in  Sweden,  where  I  have  been  looking 
into  the  conditions  of  the  state  church,  have  not  been  pro- 
ductive of  results.  Though  they  have  preserved  much  of 
the  Catholic  ritual  and  have  an  episcopate,  yet  I  find  that 
the  Swedish  clergy  are  essentially  Protestant  in  their  views, 
and  evince  no  desire  toward  church  reunion. 

"I  had  planned  next  to  meet  the  Orthodox  authorities 
in  St.  Petersburg,  but  I  hear  disturbing  reports  that  Prince 
Solntsoff  has  been  dismissed  from  Court  and  from  his  posi- 
tion at  the  Foreign  Office,  and  that  serious  disclosures  are 
expected.  Until  his  name  is  cleared  I  feel  that  my  mission 
would  lose  prestige  if  it  were  known  that  I  was  connected 
with  him  in  any  way.  I  was,  as  you  know,  to  have  been 
his  guest.  I  have  consequently  postponed  my  visit  till 
autumn,  when  I  hope  to  be  introduced  to  the  Russian  hier- 
archy under  more  favorable  auspices.  In  the  meantime, 
I  shall  visit  the  Orthodox  synods  in  the  Balkans. 

"I  leave  it  to  you  to  break  the  news  to  Faith,  and  I  fer- 
vently trust  that  Divine  Providence  will  guide  you  in  this 
delicate  matter. 

"Devotedly  yours, 
+"W.  WROXETER"+ 

Genevieve's  face  lighted  up  with  triumph.  She  had 
always  foreseen  that  there  would  be  trouble  sooner  or  later. 
How  foolish  Milbanke  and  the  bishop  had  been  to  believe 
in  that  man! 

She  looked  hastily  over  the  rest  of  the  mail.  Three 
letters  were  for  Faith,  one  from  America,  one  from  Lady 
Bowen,  the  third  from  St.  Petersburg.  Genevieve  grew 
thoughtful.  Faith  was  very  young  to  correspond  with  a 
man,  a  foreigner,  of  whom  they  knew  so  little,  and  who  was 
now  under  a  cloud.  It  seemed  a  duty  that  some  one  should 

163 


FAITH  BRANDON 

supervise  their  correspondence,  should  know  what  kind  of 
letters  he  wrote.  They  might  not  be  fit  for  a  young  girl 
to  receive.  Had  not  the  bishop  left  it  to  her  judgment  to 
decide  how  Faith  should  learn  of  this  matter? 

She  heard  a  light  step  coming  dancing  along  the  corridor,  and 
heard  a  gay,  sweet  young  voice  calling,  "Hurrah!  Letters  for 
me!"  She  thrust  the  envelope  hastily  into  her  blouse. 

Faith  burst  into  the  room  like  a  ray  of  sunshine.  "  Babette 
says  there  are  three  letters  for  me!"  she  announced,  joy- 
ously. 

"I  see  only  two,"  corrected  Genevieve,  giving  them  to  the 
girl. 

"Why,  why"  —  stammered  Faith,  "she  said  there  was 
one  from  Russia." 

"Well?"  said  Genevieve,  suavely,  "May  I  not  have 
friends  in  Russia,  too?" 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know!  I  beg  your  pardon,"  apologized 
Faith,  who  had  hard  work  to  keep  back  the  tears. 

"No,  you  did  not  know,  because  I  had  not  thought  fit 
to  tell  you  that  I  am  making  some  investigations  that  con- 
cern you.  I  did  not  wish  to  rouse  one  of  your  tempers." 

"Investigate  all  you  like,"  said  Faith,  proudly.  "  You  will 
learn  nothing  but  what  is  creditable,"  and  she  walked  off  with 
her  mail,  holding  her  head  very  straight,  but  with  a  heavy 
heart,  for  the  expected  letter  was  already  a  day  overdue. 
•  Genevieve  waited  till  she  was  gone  and  then  locked  the 
door.  Drawing  out  the  envelope  she  opened  it  skilfully, 
splitting  the  edges  apart  with  a  long  hat-pin  rolled  carefully 
between.  She  unfolded  the  letter.  "I  told  her  no  lies," 
she  remarked.  "I  said  I  was  investigating  —  so  I  am." 
The  letter  was  written  in  French,  fortunately,  as  Gene- 
vieve was  unable  to  read  Russian. 

"My  beloved  Little  Comrade  (it  began), 

"It  is  difficult  for  me  to  write,  for  I  am  suffering  under 
one  of  the  cruellest  blows  that  ever  struck  down  a  man's 

164 


A  BOLT  FROM  THE  BLUE 

pride,  and  I  know  that  you,  too,  will  suffer  keenly  from  it 
on  my  account.  I  expected,  as  you  are  aware,  to  resign 
my  position  in  the  Foreign  Office  at  the  end  of  the  year; 
but  now  I  have  been  kicked  out!  There  is  no  other  ex- 
pression for  it.  The  process  was  not  softened  for  me  in 
any  way.  I  had  no  warning.  I  was  given  no  chance  to 
resign.  I  simply  received  private  notice  that  the  Emperor 
released  me  from  my  duties  in  that  department.  It  was 
a  bolt  from  the  blue. 

"My  Little  Comrade,  you  must  not  be  angry  and  cry 
that  I  have  been  unjustly  treated.  You  must  see  your  Big 
Friend  as  others  see  him,  and  realize  that  the  man  who  is 
dear  to  you  has  his  faults  and  makes  his  mistakes.  I  need 
not  assure  you  that  I  have  done  nothing  dishonorable,  nor 
even  blundered  seriously  in  my  work.  But  I  have  been 
gravely  at  fault  in  my  manner  of  doing  it.  I  am  too  abrupt 
in  my  methods,  too  uncompromising  in  temper,  too  impa- 
tient and  satirical  in  speech,  too  intolerant  of  all  the  red- 
tape  and  intrigue  and  obsequiousness  of  bureaucratic  life. 
It  is  easier  for  me  to  work  alone  than  in  conjunction  with 
others,  and  I  would  willingly  do  the  work  of  three  to  be 
spared  the  necessity  of  consulting  the  other  two.  In  this, 
of  course,  I  am  wrong.  I  have  gone  against  the  conserva- 
tive traditions  of  the  office,  which  require  consultation 
at  every  step.  I  have  offended  those  who  are  better  fitted 
by  temperament  than  I  to  conduct  the  affairs  of  the  depart- 
ment. My  friends  have  long  warned  me  of  my  faults  and 
I  have  not  heeded  them.  I  was  conscious  of  my  own  sin- 
cerity and  loyalty  and  high  purpose,  and  I  believed  that  the 
Emperor  trusted  me  and  liked  me,  and  was  in  sympathy 
with  my  aims.  I  see  now  that  I  only  added  to  his  cares 
and  anxieties  by  trying  to  kick  over  the  traces.  He  is 
an  excellent  judge  of  men  and  he  sees  what  I  and  all  my 
friends  have  long  known,  that  I  am  not  fitted  for 
diplomacy,  and  that  he  must  appoint  in  my  place  some 
one  who  will  pull  better  with  the  rest  of  the  team.  The 
only  wonder  is  that  he  has  put  up  so  long  with  such  a 
free-lance  as  I. 

"No  reasons  have  been  given  out  for  my  dismissal.  In- 
deed, it  has  not  yet  been  publicly  gazetted,  but  it  has  leaked 
out  and  caused  a  lot  of  gossip  and  surmise  which,  however, 
need  not  distress  you.  I  have  sent  in  my  resignation 

165 


FAITH  BRANDON 

from  my  position  in  the  Imperial  household,  but  have  not 
heard  yet  if  it  is  accepted. 

"I  need  not  tell  you  how  keenly  I  have  felt  this  disgrace, 
how  deeply  it  has  wounded  me  in  my  best  feelings,  my 
devotion  to  my  Emperor  and  my  country,  and  how  intensely 
I  have  suffered  through  less  worthy  feelings  of  vanity,  self- 
love  and  personal  ambition.  No  doubt  I  deserved  the  sharp 
discipline,  but  it  is  none  the  less  a  severe,  a  bitter  correction. 

''Faith!  Faith!  I  will  not  insult  your  disinterested 
affection  and  devotion  by  offering  you  your  freedom,  for 
I  know  that  the  tender  heart  of  my  Little  Comrade  longs 
to  come  to  me  and  comfort  me  in  my  trouble.  Courage, 
dear!  I  shall  live  it  down,  and  be  a  better  and  a  wiser  man 
for  it,  God  helping  me!  But  I  am  a  poorer  man  even  than 
when  I  told  you  of  my  affairs,  poorer  in  this  world's  goods 
and  honors,  poorer  in  reputation  and  opportunity,  poorer 
in  friends  and  well-wishers,  but  rich  in  the  consolations 
of  conscience,  in  a  few  tried  friends,  and  in  you,  my  Vyera! 

"In  distress,  as  in  joy,  ever  your 

"LIONEL." 

Genevieve's  eyes  glistened.  "I  have  felt  all  along," 
she  exclaimed,  "that  I  was  perfectly  justified  in  my  op- 
position to  this  man.  Evidently  there  is  some  deep  disgrace 
about  the  affair.  No  man  is  dismissed  from  office  in  that 
summary  way  without  cause.  There  is  a  scandal  to  be 
hushed  up  and  he  is  deceiving  the  child  with  these  trivial 
excuses.  His  manner,  indeed!  His  manners  are  perfectly 
charming,  and  he  is  no  fool  to  spoil  his  career  by  assuming 
disagreeable  ones." 

She  gave  a  short  laugh.  "  That  I  should  ever  have  thought 
of  him  for  myself!  It  only  shows  how  the  wisest  heads 
can  be  carried  away  by  a  fine  figure  and  a  high-sounding 
title." 

And  by  dint  of  thinking  over  her  lucky  escape,  Genevieve 
Brandon  almost  succeeded  in  persuading  herself  that  she 
could  have  married  the  prince  had  she  so  desired. 


166 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   LAST   STRAW 

Beneath  the  wing  of  stillness  all  was  sleeping, 
The  sighing  winds,  the  very  waves  at  rest, 
And  scarce  a  breath  upon  the  sea  was  creeping; 
The  pale  moon  swam  upon  the  white  cloud's  breast. 
But  I  was  troubled,  peace  had  left  my  soul  — 
I  stretched  my  hands  toward  him  whom  I  no  more  could  see." 

—  Bdtyushko/. 

THAT  evening  Genevieve  called  Faith  into  her  room.  She 
drew  her  young  sister  down  to  the  sofa  beside  her,  put  her 
arm  about  her  affectionately,  brushed  the  hair  softly  from 
her  brow  and  kissed  her  tenderly. 

Faith  was  alarmed.  She  was  accustomed  to  coldness,  to 
neglect,  to  reprimand,  occasionally  even  to  personal  vio- 
lence. But  this  tenderness  was  something  wholly  novel. 

"Is  it  bad  news?"  she  faltered.  There  were  so  many 
dreadful  possibilities,  her  lover,  her  brother  and  his  little 
ones,  her  dear  aunts,  Sophy,  her  cousin  and  uncle,  and  — 
she  had  almost  forgotten  —  her  father! 

"No,  little  sister,  not  bad  news,  though  it  may  seem  so 
at  first.  But  it  is  really  good  news,  since  it  comes  in  time 
to  save  you  from  a  future  of  misery,  a  life-long  unhappiness. 
Be  a  brave,  sensible  little  woman,  Faith,  and  see  that  all 
is  for  the  best." 

"Don't  try  to  break  it  gently,  tell  me  at  once!"  interrupted 
Faith,  hoarsely. 

"Dear  little  sister,  the  man  your  innocent  little  heart 
trusted  in  turns  out,  just  as  I  feared,  to  be  wholly  unworthy 
of  you.  Prince  Solntsoff  has  been  disgraced.  He  has  been 
driven  from  court  by  the  Emperor  for  charges  that  are  too 

167 


FAITH  BRANDON 

grave  to  be  made  public,"  and  she  gave  Faith  the  bishop's 
letter. 

Faith  was  not  much  disturbed.  "It  cannot  possibly  be 
Lyeff  Petrovich.  It  is  some  other  of  the  name.  There  are 
two  branches  of  the  Solntsoff  family,  and  several  members 
are  in  the  Imperial  service,"  she  said,  confidently. 

"No,  no!  It  is  your  Prince  Leo  Solntsoff.  There  is  no 
possibility  of  mistake,  for,  you  see,"  —  Genevieve  weighed 
her  words  carefully,  as  she  prided  herself  on  saying  nothing 
that  was  not  verbally  the  exact  truth  —  "as  I  told  you,  I 
have  been  investigating,  for  it  was  my  duty  to  do  so  in  your 
interests.  The  Russian  letter  that  came  this  morning  was 
from  Prince  Solntsoff  himself.  Entirely  unsolicited  by  me, 
he  has  written  a  full  confession  of  his  guilt." 

"He  has  written  —  a  confession  —  and  to  you!"  said 
Faith,  slowly  and  incredulously. 

"In  black  on  white  he  acknowledges  that  he  fully  deserves 
his  punishment,  and  realizes  that  you  should  have  your 
freedom.  He  makes  no  attempt  to  excuse  himself,  he 
admits  that  these  —  er  —  these  things  for  which  he  is  dis- 
missed have  been  going  on  for  a  long  time,  that  his  friends 
warned  him  repeatedly  that  he  was  ruining  himself,  and 
that  he  made  no  attempt  to  reform.  The  only  comfort 
you  can  take,  dear,  is  to  thank  God  you  learned  his  true 
character  before  it  was  too  late,"  and  she  bent  forward  to 
kiss  her  sister  again. 

"Don't  kiss  me!  I  don't  want  to  be  kissed!"  cried  Faith, 
petulantly,  drawing  herself  away  from  Genevieve's  embrace. 
Her  mind  was  confused.  She  could  not  think  clearly.  She 
only  felt  irritated  and  incredulous.  It  was  absurd  to  suppose 
Lyeff  Petrovich  could  do  anything  disgraceful 

"Poor  child!  I  do  not  wonder  you  are  nervous,"  said 
Genevieve,  compassionately.  She  felt  really  sorry  for  Faith, 
and  nothing  but  her  stern  sense  of  duty  enabled  her  to  go 
on  unflinchingly  in  her  chosen  path. 

168 


THE  LAST  STRAW 

"Show  me  his  letter,"  said  Faith,  suddenly.  "I  have  a 
right  to  see  it.  If  he  had  any  confession  to  make,  it  should 
have  been  written  to  me." 

"To  you!  What  are  you  thinking  of?"  exclaimed  her 
sister.  "If  the  charges  against  him  are  so  grave  that  they 
cannot  be  made  public,  how  could  he  write  about  them  to  an 
innocent  young  girl  like  you?  He  would  have  to  suppress 
the  most  important.  He  would  have  decency  enough  left 
for  that!  Even  to  me  he  could  not  write  the  very  worst." 

Faith  was  angry  through  and  through.  "There  are  ten 
Commandments,"  she  said.  "Which  one  has  he  broken? 
Has  he  murdered  any  one,  or  run  away  with  his  neighbor's 
wife?  Has  he  stolen,  or  committed  perjury?  Which  of 
these  heads  do  his  crimes  come  under?" 

"Faith!  You  have  such  a  coarse  way  of  expressing 
yourself!" 

"But  how  can  I  believe  charges  against  a  man  unless 'I 
know  what  the  charges  are?  I  refuse  to  condemn  him  until 
I  learn  exactly  what  he  confesses  to." 

"It  is  not  fitting  you  should  know," said Genevieve, coldly. 
"You  must  abide  by  the  judgment  of  your  elders." 

"  I  will !"  said  Faith.  "  I  will  abide  by  Rupert's  judgment ! 
Show  the  letter  to  him.  He  can  make  inquiries  better  than 
a  woman  can,  and  he  is  my  guardian  in  Father's  absence." 

"The  letter  was  confidential,"  replied  Genevieve,  after  a 
moment's  consideration.  "I  felt  it  my  duty  to  destroy  it 
as  soon  as  read.  I  am  no  fool,  Faith!  I  know  the  prince 
better  than  you  do.  I  have  had  interviews  and  corre- 
spondence with  him  of  which  you  know  nothing.  The  fact 
is,  I  could  have  married  him  myself  had  I  chosen,  but  I 
saw  through  him  too  quickly.  He  is  a  consummate  hypocrite 
and  flirt,  who  has  imposed  on  your  inexperience  and  credulity. 
He  took  it  for  granted  you  had  the  same  income  as  I.  Since 
he  has  found  out  you  would  bring  him  no  dowry  he  has  been 
content  to  spend  the  seven  long  tnonths  away  from  you.  He 

169 


FAITH  BRANDON 

refers  in  the  letter  to  his  poverty  and  his  need  of  money  as 
a  barrier  between  you;  and,  if  you  ever  hear  from  him 
again,  I  shall  be  much  surprised." 

Faith  was  too  astonished  and  indignant  for  words.  She 
stared  at  her  sister,  then  turned  in  cold  silence  and  left  the 
room.  Genevieve  was  a  great  stickler  for  the  truth  and 
would  hardly  fabricate  the  whole  affair,  so  no  doubt  she  had 
received  a  letter  of  sonie  sort,  but  she  was  exaggerating  or 
perverting  its  contents.  Faith  felt  she  must  not  be  too 
credulous  or  too  easily  disturbed.  This  sort  of  thing  was 
always  happening  in  romances,  and  she  must  have  sense  and 
courage  and  believe  that  all  would  be  cleared  up  somehow. 
But  why,  oh,  why  had  he  not  written  directly  to  herself? 
Of  course,  letters  miscarried  sometimes,  or  were  delayed 
in  the  mails.  She  must  remember  that  and  have  patience; 
but  she  knew  that  if  she  did  not  receive  some  word  from 
him  by  to-morrow,  she  should  feel  very  deeply  hurt  indeed. 

A  week  and  a  day  passed  and  no  word  came.  Faith  held 
herself  bravely.  No  one  should  see  that  she  had  lost  courage 
or  confidence.  A  hurried  note  from  Rupert  expressing  symp- 
athy and  asking  if  Solntsoff  had  given  her  any  explanation 
which  he  might  be  allowed  to  use  to  contradict  unpleasant 
rumors,  only  seemed  to  confirm  what  Genevieve  had  told  her. 

Meanwhile,  her  fellow-guests  at  the  Pension  seemed  pos- 
sessed, one  and  all,  to  add  to  her  trouble.  It  was  known  that 
this  schoolgirl,  this  mere  child,  was  in  love  with  a  dissipated, 
undesirable  Russian,  and  the  good  women  believed  they 
were  doing  Faith  a  kindness  in  opening  her  eyes  to  the  evils 
of  bad  men's  lives,  especially  those  of  foreign  men.  Poor 
Faith  shrank  from  these  unsought  confidences  but  knew 
not  how  to  repel  them,  since  they  seemed  kindly  meant. 
Anonymous  letters  of  warning  against  international  marri- 
ages came  to  her  with  every  mail.  Genevieve's  friends 
went  farther.  Two  of  these  three  ladies  were  "ungathered 
roses"  of  the  age  when  they  speak  of  themselves,  with  an 

170 


THE  LAST  STRAW 

apologetic  giggle,  as  "girls."  The  other  was,  indeed, 
married  but  content  to  have  the  ocean  between  herself 
and  her  husband.  She  spoke  most  discouragingly  about 
marriage  in  general.  Husbands  were  brutes,  and  wives 
down-trodden  victims.  Children  were  a  terrible  responsi- 
bility and  expense,  and  a  menace  to  the  mother's  health. 
Thank  heaven  she  had  none!  She  scorned  Faith's  idea 
that  a  woman  should  be  ready  to  give  her  life  for  her  child, 
as  a  man  gave  his  for  his  country.  The  "Ungathered 
Roses"  hi  their  eagerness  to  appear  content  with  their  lot, 
also  talked  disparagingly  of  marriage  as  of  a  most  unaccount- 
able dispensation  of  the  Almighty.  They  spoke  shudder- 
ingly,  with  bated  breath,  yet  with  a  certain  fascinated 
eloquence  of  the  unholy  habits  of  men.  Genevieve,  too, 
felt  it  a  stern  duty  to  enlighten  Faith  upon  the  depravity  of 
men  and  the  unhappy  lot  of  married  women.  The  poor  girl 
who,  ten  days  before,  had  none  but  the  sweetest  and  holiest 
ideals  of  matrimony  and  the  vaguest  general  notions  of  what 
a  life  of  dissipation  meant,  was  shocked  and  overwhelmed 
by  the  revelations  poured  into  her  unwilling  ears.  Night 
after  night  she  sobbed  herself  to  a  restless,  broken  sleep. 

The  evening  of  the  tenth  day  Lady  Bowen  arrived  and 
Faith  went  eagerly  to  seek  counsel  of  her,  but  found  her  so 
fatigued  from  her  journey  that  it  seemed  selfish  to  trouble 
her  with  the  burdens  of  others.  So  after  an  affectionate 
greeting  Faith  left  her  and  wandered  away,  anywhere,  any- 
where, only  to  escape  from  the  gossiping  tongues  on  the 
veranda.  She  found  herself  by  the  little  Lutheran  church, 
standing  picturesquely  on  its  terrace  above  the  village. 
She  turned  toward  it  disconsolately,  but  its  inhospitable 
door  was  locked  until  the  coming  Sunday,  and  she  sighed 
for  the  ever  open  temples  and  shrines  of  Orthodox  and 
Catholic  lands.  Of  course  God  could  hear  her  prayer  any- 
where, but  her  young  heart  yearned  for  the  earthly  taber- 
nacles of  the  Heavenly  Lamb. 

171 


FAITH  BRANDON 

She  crossed  to  a  bench  at  the  edge  of  the  terrace  and 
sitting  down,  leaned  her  arms  on  the  parapet  and  gazed  out 
over  the  lake.  The  sun  was  just  sinking  over  the  snowy 
horizon  of  the  Jura;  the  soft  spring  twilight  was  already 
perceptibly  longer.  The  summer  would  soon  be  here.  She 
laid  her  head  down  wearily  on  her  arms. 

It  was  so  hard  to  judge!  Her  heart  called  upon  her  loudly 
to  have  faith,  to  trust  her  lover  all  in  all,  to  enter  with 
courage  into  God's  holy  ordinance,  hand  in  hand  with  the 
clean  and  upright  man  whom  she  loved,  and  who  must 
sorely  need  her  in  his  trouble.  On  the  other  side,  these 
women  of  experience,  so  much  older,  so  much  wiser  than 
herself,  were  telling  her  that  her  ideals  were  impossible, 
that  all  men  were  false  and  weak,  and  that  she  must  believe 
the  stories  she  heard  against  her  lover  because  they  were 
presumably  true.  And  she,  ignorant,  inexperienced  young 
schoolgirl,  believed  in  him  against  the  judgment  of  her 
elders,  against  all  probability,  against  the  voice  of  report, 
against  his  own  strange  silence! 

Oh,  if  she  could  only  see  some  one  who  would  explain  it 
all  away  and  bring  her  back  her  "  good  Prince,  the  Courteous 
Prince,  Fair-Sun!"  If  she  could  only  once  more  believe  in 
her  old  ideals!  Were  men  no  longer  Christians?  Were 
knights  no  more  true?  Was  there  none  worthy  to  sit  in 
the  Siege  Perilous? 

A  man  came  out  onto  the  terrace  from  the  forest  path, 
a  stout,  florid  man  of  middle  age,  his  auburn  hair  and  mous- 
tache streaked  with  gray.  He  was  warm  and  was  fanning 
himself  with  his  hat,  which  action  betrayed  the  fact  that  he 
was  decidedly  bald.  He  heard  the  sound  of  sobs  and  his 
big,  compassionate  heart  was  touched  by  the  sight  of  a 
young  girl's  weary  figure  leaning  against  the  parapet.  But 
he  was  an  experienced  man,  who  knew  that  it  was  usually 
best  to  fight  shy  of  females  in  apparent  distress.  A  respect- 
able married  man  and  father  of  a  large  family  has  bis  own 

172 


THE  LAST  STRAW 

reputation  to  protect.  It  is  not  his  office  to  comfort  lonely 
young  women  in  search  of  consolation.  He  turned  away 
from  the  terrace  and  back  toward  the  forest  path. 

But  his  kind  heart  reproached  him.  He  was  surely  old 
enough  and  settled  enough  to  be  careless  of  gossip,  and  there 
was  something  familiar  as  well  as  appealing  in  the  lonely, 
girlish  figure.  He  turned  back  and  walked  toward  the 
parapet.  The  girl  started  at  the  sound  of  steps. 

"My  God!  Vyera  Karlovna!"  he  exclaimed,  and  hurry- 
ing forward  took  her  hands  and  pressed  them  warmly  in  his. 
He  was  shocked  at  her  appearance. 

"Dear  Graf,  Grigori  Sergevich,"  began  Faith,  then, 
drawing  her  hands  away,  began  to  sob  anew. 

"Come!  Come!  This  will  never  do!"  said  the  good 
Graf,  sitting  down  beside  her.  "Do  you  need  help?  Can 
I  do  anything  for  you?  Is  it  for  Lyeff  Petrovich's  troubles 
that  you  are  crying,  my  dear?" 

"He  doesn't  write  me  any  explanation,"  said  Faith, 
wiping  her  eyes.  "I  have  not  had  one  little  bit  of  a  note 
from  him  since  the  trouble  began." 

"Do  you  need  any  explanation?"  asked  Alyonkin  with  a 
slight  hardening  of  his  tone,  for  he  was  jealous  for  his  friend's 
sake.  It  was  a  poor,  pitiful  kind  of  love  that  could  not 
believe  in  such  a  man  and  cling  to  him  through  good  report 
and  evil. 

"No!"  exclaimed  Faith,  with  indignation.  "I  do  not 
ask  for  a  word  for  myself!  But  everybody  says  dreadful 
things  and  I  have  no  answer  to  give.  They  think  I  am  a  fool 
to  trust  him. " 

Alyonkin  patted  her  approvingly  on  the  shoulder.  "You 
must  not  be  too  upset  by  all  the  newspaper  gossip,"  he 
explained,  kindly.  "It  is  hard  for  you  to  understand  the 
venom  with  which  the  different  political  parties  in  Russia 
hate  one  another,  but  there  is  nothing  personal  in  it.  A  man 
may  be  of  irreproachable  character;  yet,  if  he  is  a  conserva- 

173 


FAITH  BRANDON 

live,  the  liberals  will  call  him  corrupt  and  a  reptile  because 
he  supports  existing  institutions;  and,  if  he  is  a  liberal,  the 
conservatives  will  call  him  depraved  and  a  rascal  because 
they  think  his  experiments  would  undermine  the  foundations 
of  religion  and  order.  Men  who  reach  a  high  position  at 
court  are  especially  subject  to  all  kinds  of  abuse  from  jealous 
intriguers  and  social  climbers.  You  must  not  attach  too 
serious  a  meaning  to  it  all.  For  my  part,  I  believe  Lyova 
is  well  out  of  it  and  will  be  thankful  for  his  fall  some  day." 

"But  that  isn't  all,"  said  Faith,  hesitatingly.  "He  wrote 
my  sister  a  letter.  I  am  sure  she  misunderstands  him,  but 
she  declares  he  says  he  is  guilty  and  deserves  the  disgrace 
that  has  come  to  him." 

"Lyeff  Petrovich  has  written  your  sister!"  exclaimed  Al- 
y6nkin,  in  utter  incredulity.  He  considered  a  moment  and 
then  said  cautiously,  "I,  too,  am  sure  that  if  he  wrote  your 
sister,  she  misunderstands  his  meaning.  He  knows  his  own 
defects  of  character  and  he  may  have  admitted  that  he  was 
at  fault  in  some  respect;  but  how  can  he  say  he  is  guilty  when 
he  was  not  dismissed  on  any  charge  of  misconduct  whatever?" 

"She  says  the  charges  were  too  grave  to  publish,  and  it 
makes  me  so  unhappy,"  sighed  Faith. 

"Of  course  it  would!  You  long  to  be  among  those  of  us 
who  love  and  understand  him.  If  you  could  only  come  to 
us,  dear,  we  should  have  comforted  you  long  since.  Lyeff 
Petrovich  is  greatly  loved  in  our  happy  little  household." 

Faith  looked  up  appealingly  into  the  bluff,  honest  face. 
"You  do  seem  happy!  It  is  possible,  isn't  it?"  she  asked. 
"There  can  be  happy  marriages,  can  there  not?" 

"  Happy  marriages !  Possible ! "  he  exclaimed,  wonderingly. 
"Little  Vyera,  if  you  mean  marriages  free  from  every  shadow 
of  sorrow  or  discord,  I  will  answer  frankly  that  it  is  not  pos- 
sible. We  are  poor,  faulty  human  beings  and  we  live  on  earth 
and  not  in  heaven.  But  if  you  mean  marriages  where  two 
people  love  each  other,  do  their  duty  by  each  other,  are 

174 


THE  LAST  STRAW 

tenderly  forbearing  with  each  other's  faults,  cling  to  one  an- 
other through  storm  and  sunshine,  love  their  children  and  de- 
light in  their  education  and  companionship,  and  have  many, 
many  hours  of  exquisite  happiness  together,  their  occasional 
sorrows,  cares  or  misunderstandings  only  serving  to  draw 
them  hand  in  hand  to  the  throne  of  God  —  then,  I  say,  such 
happy  marriages  are  possible.  And,  thank  God,  there 
are  thousands  and  hundreds  of  thousands  of  such  happy, 
Christian  homes  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
beloved  Russia." 

But  Faith  choked  up  and  began  to  cry  again,  hiding  her 
face  in  her  hands. 

"I  don't  get  to  the  bottom  of  your  trouble,"  said  the 
puzzled  count.  "I  wish  you  could  come  to  my  wife  and 
let  her  take  you  to  her  motherly  heart.  You  need  a  good 
woman's  help,  poor  little  dove!  I  will  talk  it  over  with 
Anna  Nikolayevna,  and  she  may  think  of  something.  Can 
you  see  me  to-morrow,  if  I  call?" 

"I  don't  know  where  we  could  talk  freely,"  sighed  Faith. 
"My  sister  would  be  in  our  sitting-room,  and  there 
are  always  people  in  the  public  reception-room.  There  is 
Lady  Bowen,  do  you  know  her?" 

"Very  slightly,  but  enough  to  call,  if  she  is  your  friend." 

"Oh,  I  shouldn't  be  afraid  to  say  anything  before  her. 
I  am  to  take  tea  with  her  in  her  room  every  afternoon 
between  four  and  five,  and  there  is  never  any  one  else." 

"I  will  be  there  to-morrow  at  four,"  promised  Alyonkin, 
"and  Anna  Nikolayevna  will  surely  have  thought  of  some- 
thing to  help  and  cheer  you." 

"You  are  very  good  to  me.     I  am  sorry  to  be  so  silly." 

"You  are  not  silly.  You  are  in  a  very  difficult  position 
and  you  are  very  young  to  cope  with  such  trouble.  But 
the  end  will  crown  all." 

That  night  Faith  slept  soundly  and  dreamlessly,  and 
woke  up  greatly  refreshed.  Though  the  morning's  mail 

175 


FAITH  BRANDON 

brought  her  no  letter  yet  she  felt  a  sense  of  comfort  and 
security.  She  did  not  know  what  Grigori  Sergevich  would 
have  to  say  to  her,  what  message  Anna  Nikolayevna  would 
send,  but  she  felt  sure  they  would  find  a  way  to  help  her. 

After  luncheon  she  ran  up  to  her  room.  It  lacked  two  hours 
yet  of  the  appointed  time,  but  she  had  picked  out  the 
prettiest  frock  from  her  new  wardrobe  when  Genevieve 
entered  from  their  sitting-room.  She  eyed  the  dainty  dress 
suspiciously. 

"Where  are  you  going  that  you  wear  your  best  things?" 
she  asked. 

"Only  to  afternoon  tea  as  usual  with  Lady  Bowen,"  re- 
plied Faith,  trying  to  look  innocent  but  feeling  desperately 
guilty. 

"It  hardly  seems  worth  while  to  muss  it  just  for  her," 
observed  Genevieve. 

Faith  choked.  She  must  tell  the  whole  truth  or  it  would 
strangle  her. 

"Graf  Alyonkin  will  be  there  to-day,"  she  said  as  quietly 
as  she  could. 

.^"1  knew  you  were  trying  to  deceive  me,"  cried  Genevieve, 
sternly.  "Pray,  how  long  has  this  been  going  on,  Miss? 
See  how  you  have  deteriorated  among  your  fine  foreign 
friends!  It  is  high  time  to  take  you  away.  I  have  cabled 
Father  that  we  shall  return  next  week  by  the  Cunard  steamer 
from  Genoa.  In  America  you  used  to  have  some  sense  of 
honor.  Now  you  think  nothing  of  lying  to  me,  of  hav- 
ing clandestine  meetings  with  dissipated  foreigners  under 
pretense  of  'going  to  tea  as  usual  with  Lady  Bowen ! ' 
How  do  I  know  but  that  you  expect  to  meet  your  unworthy 
lover  there?" 

Faith  was  scarlet,  but  she  made  no  reply. 

"  Answer  me ! "  cried  Genevieve,  stamping  her  foot.  "  Will 
Solntsoff  be  there?" 

"No,  he  will  not!"  said  Faith,  coldly.    "You  know  as 

176 


THE  LAST  STRAW 

well  as  I  do  that  he  is  in  Russia,  and  that  I  have  not  heard 
from  him  for  two  weeks. " 

"I  know  that  he  is  not  in  Russia! "  sneered  her  sister. 
"And  I  expect  you  know  it  even  better  than  I.  What 
messages  is  he  sending  to  you  through  Count  Alyonkin  and 
Lady  Bowen?  " 

"If  you  know  that  he  is  not  in  Russia,  then  where  is  he?" 
asked  Faith,  slowly.  "You  seem  to  know  more  about  him 
than  I  do." 

"I  know  —  er  —  from  the  papers,  that  he  has  fled  from 
St.  Petersburg.  An  innocent  man  would  have  stayed  on  the 
spot  to  face  his  false  accusers,  but  he  ran  away  and  joined 
his  uncle  at  Aix-les-Bains  a  week  ago  or  more.  Nothing 
further  was  needed  to  confirm  his  guilt." 

"He  has  been  at  Aix-les-Bains  a  week!"  thought  Faith, 
and  she  grew  very  grave.  Aix  was  only  four  hours  distant 
and  he  had  not  been  to  see  her,  had  not  even  telegraphed 
her  his  change  of  address. 

"Of  course,  he  would  wish  to  stay  on  the  spot,"  she  said 
aloud,  loyally,  "but  it  is  natural  that  he  should  go  to  his 
uncle.  Prince  SolntsofiPs  devotion  to  his  uncle  has  always 
been  one  of  the  beautiful  traits  of  his  character.  Prince 
Kliazemski  has  been  like  a  father  to  him.  He  is  a  saintly 
old  man  and  Lyeff  owes  him  everything." 

"  So  I  understand,"  said  Genevieve  meaningly. 

Faith  gave  an  indignant  little  cry.  "Oh,  you  know  I  do 
not  mean  it  in  that  sense.  I  spoke  of  a  debt  of  love  and 
loyalty  and  gratitude.  He  has  never  received  a  single  penny 
from  his  uncle." 

"Who  is  your  authority  for  that  statement?"  asked  Gene- 
vieve, pointedly.  Faith  hesitated.  Of  course,  no  one  had 
spoken  to  her  of  his  affairs  but  Solntsoff  himself,  the  very 
man  whose  integrity  and  disinterestedness  were  in  question. 

"  No  doubt  he  told  you  this,  and  many  other  nice  things 
that  you  are  fool  enough  to  believe,"  laughed  Genevieve 

177 


FAITH  BRANDON 

tauntingly,  and,  going  out,  slammed  the  door  after  her. 
Faith  waited  till  the  door  was  tightly  closed,  and  then, 
grown  white  and  trembling  from  agitation,  threw  herself 
on  the  bed. 

"She  doesn't  know  him  as  I  do,"  she  confided  to  the 
friendly  bosom  of  the  pillow.  "  She  has  not  felt  the  strength 
of  his  faith  and  his  principles.  How  could  she  know?  She 
has  not  talked  heart  to  heart  with  Lyova;  she  has  not  read 
his  letters  to  me " 

Then  with  a  little  stab  of  agony  came  the  thought  that 
there  had  been  no  letters  of  late;  that  Genevieve  was  hardly 
to  be  blamed  for  misconstruing  his  actions,  when  she  herself 
wondered  at  them  and  was  at  a  loss  to  account  for  them. 
"  If  they  could  prove  beyond  a  doubt  that  Lyova  was  dissi- 
pated it  would  kill  my  love  forever! "  she  sobbed.  "  He 
would  not  be  the  man  I  thought,  but  a  stranger,  a  hypocrite, 
a  deceiver,  for  whom  I  care  nothing!"  She  tried  to  recall 
the  man  she  had  trusted,  to  see  before  her  the  tall,  shapely 
figure,  the  kind,  strong  face,  the  pleasant,  winsome  eyes,  the 
sunny,  tender  smile.  "If  only  I  could  see  him!"  she  sighed, 
for  no  pictures  would  come  before  her  but  the  repulsive  ones 
that  had  been  suggested  to  her  of  late.  "If  only  I  could  see 
him  once  again,  only  look  once  into  his  eyes,  and  feel  the 
clasp  of  his  hand!" 

She  rose  and  went  toward  her  boxes.  "I  will  read  his  dear 
letters  once  more  to  fortify  my  faith,"  she  said,  smilingly, 
and  drawing  the  key  from  her  purse,  unlocked  the  trunk, 
lifted  the  tray  and  put  her  hand  into  the  partition  where 
she  kept  her  papers.  The  packet  of  letters  in  a  silken  cover 
should  have  been  in  front,  but  her  hand  slipped  into  a  vacant 
place.  With  a  nervous  cry  of  alarm  she  hastily  rummaged 
over  the  trays,  searched  in  every  corner,  then  sat  down  feel- 
ing faint  and  desolate.  She  recalled  that  Genevieve  kept 
the  duplicate  keys  of  all  her  boxes, "for  safety,"  she  had 
said. 

178 


THE  LAST  STRAW 

"My  letters,  my  letters!"  repeated  Faith,  in  a  dull,  con- 
fused way.  "His  letters  to  me!  They  are  mine,  they  are 
sacred,  no  one  else  should  touch  them!  Oh,  Rupert,  you 
were  right  when  you  warned  me  that  the  best-kept  letters 
might  go  astray!" 

At  first  she  was  dazed.  Then  her  anger  flashed  up  hot 
and  strong,  and  she  sprang  to  the  door  leading  into  their 
sitting-room.  It  was  locked!  There  was  no  other  entrance 
to  her  room,  no  bell,  no  communication  with  the  outside 
world  save  through  this  sitting-room.  And  Genevieve  had 
locked  her  in! 

Faith  smiled  grimly.  Her  lips  closed  in  an  obstinate  line, 
and  she  walked  to  the  window.  Their  rooms  were  on  the 
second  sleeping  floor.  The  height  of  the  first  floor,  some  ten 
feet,  lay  between  the  window  and  the  sloping  roof  of  the 
veranda  below,  which  ran  around  three  sides  of  the  large, 
shady  garden.  She  made  a  rapid  calculation  of  the  position 
of  Lady  Bowen's  rooms.  They  were  on  the  first  sleeping 
floor,  at  right  angles  to  their  own. 

She  turned  back  and  began  to  put  on  her  tennis-skirt 
and  her  rubber-soled  tennis  shoes.  "They  will  keep  me 
from  slipping,"  she  thought.  "I  suppose  it  will  startle 
these  good  spinsters  and  dowagers  to  see  me  clambering 
over  our  decorous  roofs,  but  I  am  a  desperate  girl,  and  must 
adopt  desperate  measures."  She  opened  the  window  softly, 
and  climbed  out  on  to  the  sill. 

It  was  the  hour  of  the  afternoon  siesta.  The  garden 
below  was  empty,  while,  on  the  sleeping  floors,  the 
Venetian  blinds  were  drawn  at  almost  every  window.  It 
was  certainly  a  favorable  hour  for  her  adventurous 
roof-trip. 

Such  a  trip  was  not  without  danger  and,  conscious  of 
its  seriousness,  Faith  made  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  herself, 
as  she  had  seen  the  Orthodox  do  in  church.  Then,  holding 
to  the  sill  with  both  hands,  she  let  herself  down  over  the 

179 


FAITH  BRANDON 

edge.  The  slope  of  the  roof  below  looked  perilously  steep 
and  slippery  from  this  point  of  view,  but  it  was  too  late  to 
climb  back  now. 

"  It's  an  even  chance!"  she  gasped.  " Cheer  up,  Faith! 
You've  taken  many  a  long  jump  before.  This  is  for  love  and 
liberty.  One,  two,  three " 


180 


CHAPTER  XIII 


"Fling  the  gates  wide  open,  fling  — 
Who's  the  guest  the  coursers  bring? 

Who?     Tis  thou,  my  love! 
Svetlana,  tell  me  now!    the  dream, 

Is  the  dream  forgot? 
Youths  may  faithful  be  who  seem  — 

Faithless  —  may  they  not? 
Hope  and  trust  should  guide  our  way, 

Maid!  there's  no  mistaking; 
Miseries  are  only  dreams, 

Joy  —  is  the  awaking!" 

—  Zhukovski's  "Svetldna." 

LADY  BOWEN  sat  in  her  cool,  well-shaded  boudoir.  The 
windows  were  open,  but  the  Venetian  blinds  were  drawn 
to  keep  out  the  direct  rays  of  the  afternoon  sun.  The 
light  in  the  sheltered  room  was  somewhat  dim,  but  it  could 
be  seen  that  a  gentleman  was  with  her  and  that  they  were 
consulting  together  earnestly. 

"It  is  a  coincidence,"  she  was  saying,  "that  the  countess 
and  I  should  have  thought  of  the  same  remedy  at  the  same 
moment.  I  have  not  been  twenty-four  hours  in  the  Pension, 
but  I  can  form  an  idea  already  of  what  the  poor  child  has 
had  to  go  through.  I  would  suggest " 

A  sudden  rattling  at  the  Venetian  blinds  startled 
them;  then  a  low,  hurried  voice  was  heard  calling  from 
without. 

"Oh,  Lady  Bowen,  please  pull  up  the  blinds  and  let  me  hi 
as  soon  as  you  can!  It  is  I,  Faith,  out  here  on  the  veranda 
roof." 

Both  occupants  of  the  room  sprang  to  their  feet  in  aston- 
ishment. Then  the  gentleman  stepped  quickly  to  the  window, 

181 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and,  drawing  up  the  blinds,  held  out  his  hand  to  assist  the 
crouching  figure. 

Looking  into  the  room  from  the  dazzling  glare  without, 
Faith  could  not  discern  the  figures  within,  could  see  nothing 
but  darkness.  She  sat  on  the  ledge  of  the  window,  trembling, 
and  half-crying. 

"In  heaven's  name,  Faith!"  cried  Lady  Bowen.  "What 
does  this  mean?" 

"It  means  that  she  locked  me  in  my  room  so  that  I 
should  not  come  to  you,"  sobbed  the  excited  and  indignant 
girl.  "She  has  been  saying  the  most  awful  things  about 
Prince  Solntsofi  till  I  felt  as  if  I  could  strangle  her! 
I  have  tried  to  obey  her;  I  have  tried  to  be  loyal  to 
her;  but  I  cannot  stand  it  any  longer.  I  have  run  away! 
I  climbed  out  the  window  and  dropped  down  to  the  roof  and 
crawled  round  here.  I  should  have  broken  my  neck,  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  my  tennis  shoes.  Lady  Bowen,  if  you  won't 
take  me  in,  I  shall  go  somewhere  and  earn  my  living.  I'll 
work  my  fingers  to  the  bone  till  he  is  ready  for  me " 

Suddenly  she  felt  herself  drawn  into  the  room,  felt  a  pair 
of  strong  arms  lift  her  completely  off  her  feet  and  up,  up, 
till  her  head  was  on  a  level  with  a  fair  head  that  she  could 
see  in  the  dim  light,  and  her  dark  eyes  looked  full  into  the 
blue  eyes  that  she  loved.  With  one  glad  cry,  her  arms  went 
round  the  tall  man's  neck,  and  he  was  holding  her  to  his 
breast  as  if  he  could  never  let  her  go. 

For  a  moment  neither  spoke.  It  seemed  to  Faith  as  if 
everything  had  all  at  once  grown  peaceful  and  still,  that  this 
was  a  good  world  to  live  in,  that  a  kind  Heavenly  Father 
was  guiding  her,  and  that  nothing  mattered,  but  just  to  be 
loving  and  true.  She  pressed  the  fair,  manly  head  close 
to  her  cheek  and  ran  her  fingers  softly  through  the  waving, 
sunny  hair. 

"The  good  Prince,"  she  murmured,  happily  and  tenderly. 
"My  Prince  Fair-Sun!"  Then  she  pushed  herself  a  little 

182 


A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH 

away  from  him  and  he  put  her  down  gently,  still  holding  her 
closely  to  his  side. 

"I  do  not  know  how  or  why  you  came,"  she  went  on,  low 
and  joyously.  "I  only  know  that  you  appear  when  I  most 
need  you.  Now  that  I  have  you  I  can  almost  forgive 
Genevieve!  I  do  not  hate  her  any  more;  I  have  no 
more  enemies.  With  you  here  I  can  forget  that  any  one  was 
ever  unkind." 

"Then  they  were  right?    I  did  not  come  for  nothing." 

"Who  was  right?  Who  is  'they'?"  she  asked  drawing 
away  from  him,  for  she  suddenly  remembered  Lady  Bowen's 
presence  and  became  greatly  confused.  What  would  Lady 
Bowen  think  of  her  impulsive  familiarity  and  foolish  fond- 
ness? But  that  lady  seemed  to  take  it  as  a  matter  of  course, 
patted  her  affectionately  on  the  shoulder,  asked  why  she  had 
not  on  her  pretty  blue  frock,  and  then  they  sat  down  at 
discreet  distances  one  from  another. 

"Lady  Bowen  and  Grigori  Sergevich  were  each  and 
separately  inspired  to  write  me  last  evening,"  explained 
Solntsoff.  "Their  notes,  saying  that  my  Little  Comrade 
needed  me,  were  delivered  to  me  at  the  same  moment  this 
morning,  just  twenty  minutes  before  the  train  was  due  to 
start.  I  must  give  the  short  notice  as  my  excuse  for  appear- 
ing before  you  in  this  unkempt  condition,"  he  added,  with 
some  embarrassment.  "  I  have  already  made  my  apologies 
to  Lady  Bowen.  I  had  been  up  practically  all  night  for 
three  successive  nights,  and  had  been  too  sleepy  and  tired 
to  attempt  to  shave  or  dress  till  the  letters  came;  then  it 
was  a  mad  rush  for  the  train." 

Faith's  eyes  had  now  become  accustomed  to  the  dim  light 
of  the  room,  and  she  glanced  shyly  toward  her  lover.  As 
she  looked  at  him  her  heart  sank  in  doubt  and  dismay. 
Never  had  he  appeared  to  so  little  advantage.  Not  only  was 
he  travel-stained  and  sadly  hi  need  of  a  shave,  but  his  eyes 
were  bloodshot  and  dull,  there  were  dark  circles  under  them 

183 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and  the  lids  were  heavy  and  swollen.  His  skin  was  sallow, 
his  lips  were  colorless,  and  he  looked  weary,  careless,  even 
slovenly.  Such  was  the  way,  Genevieve  had  said,  that  men 
looked  after  a  night's  debauch,  and  Faith  felt  her  heart  grow 
heavy  as  lead  within  her.  What  if  Genevieve  were  right? 
What  if  she,  an  ignorant,  inexperienced  schoolgirl,  had  been 
deceived  in  her  lover,  and  he  were  no  better  than  those  men 
whose  evil  habits  her  sister  and  her  sister's  friends  had  so 
vividly  described?  She  turned  faint  and  sick  with  a  sudden 
feeling  of  repulsion. 

"You  see,  little  Marplot,"  said  Lady  Bowen,  cheerily, 
"we  did  not  expect  you  for  another  two  hours  yet.  The 
prince  hurried  here  direct  from  the  train  to  arrange  with 
me  about  meeting  you,  and  was  on  the  point  of  leaving  for 
Graf  Alyonkin's  villa  to  make  himself  fine  for  you,  when 
you  dropped  down  from  the  heavens  and  flew  in  at  the 
window  in  this  unexpected  fashion." 

Solntsoff  was  watching  Faith  narrowly.  He  bent  for- 
ward and  smiled  inquiringly  into  her  troubled  eyes,  but  there 
was  not  the  usual  shy  response  in  her  face.  She  looked 
white  and  distressed.  Nor  was  his  smile  the  spontaneously 
winning,  tender,  merry  thing  that  used  to  set  her  young 
heart  palpitating.  It  was  forced  and  artificial,  and  she  was 
quick  to  note  the  difference.  Her  fears  increased. 

"Oh,  what  shall  I  do?"  thought  the  frightened  girl.  "I 
suddenly  feel  that  I  shrink  from  him,  that  I  do  not  love  him 
any  more!  Oh,  what  has  happened?  It  is  only  a  moment 
since  I  was  so  happy  in  his  arms,  that  I  was  calling  him  en- 
dearing, trusting  names;  and  now  all  at  once  it  seems  like 
a  horrible  mistake.  How  can  I  leave  everything  to  go  off 
alone  to  a  strange  land  with  a  man  like  that,  to  belong  to 
him  entirely  and  forever,  no  matter  what  he  does!  Oh, 
if  he  is  a  dissipated  man  I  cannot  love  him,  I  cannot  belong 
to  him!  Yet  he  has  my  solemn  promise,  my  'promise  true.' 
Oh,  what,  what  shall  I  do?" 

184 


A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH 

She  could  hear  their  voices;  and  though  neither  ad- 
dressed her  directly  yet  she  was  conscious  that  they  were 
discussing  the  very  things  she  had  wished  to  hear  about,  his 
dismissal  from  office  and  his  plans  for  the  future.  She 
tried  miserably  to  gather  herself  together.  How  had  he 
dared  present  himself  looking  as  he  did?  Was  it  possible 
that,  as  Genevieve  had  suggested,  he  wished  her  to  break 
the  engagement,  and  had  come  to-day  with  the  intention 
of  letting  her  see  him  at  his  worst?  She  flushed  hotly  as 
she  remembered  her  impulsive  greeting  to  him.  But,  at 
any  rate,  he  had  come  at  the  special  request  of  her  friends 
and  she  must  treat  him  with  courtesy  and  dignity. 

"I  hope  your  uncle  is  well?"  she  said,  politely.  "I  hope 
Natalia  Petrovna  and  the  children  are  all  well?  " 

He  turned  toward  her  gravely,  and  his  voice  was  a  little 
unsteady  as  he  replied,  "We  fear  that  my  poor  uncle  is 
dying!  Yesterday  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  last  through 
the  night,  but  he  rallies  wonderfully  during  the  day.  His 
two  daughters  have  come  on,  and  we  have  sat  up  with  him 
three  nights,  hourly  expecting  the  end.  We  are  all  nearly 
exhausted  with  anxiety,  fatigue,  and  lack  of  sleep." 

Faith  watched  him  with  eager,  wide-open  eyes.  She 
should  have  grieved  for  the  old  prince,  to  whom  she  was 
sincerely  attached,  yet  it  seemed  as  if  the  light  of  gladness 
shone  in  her  face.  Then  she  said,  almost  reproachfully, 
"But  how  could  you  leave  his  dying  bed?  How  could  you 
leave  those  poor  women  alone  in  their  trouble?  " 

He  returned  her  look  with  a  certain  grave  surprise.  "I 
heard  that  you,  too,  were  in  deep  trouble,"  he  replied,  very 
simply.  "I  had  to  choose  between  you.  Holy  Scripture 
tells  us  that  a  man  shall  leave  even  father  and  mother  to 
cling  to  his  wife.  You  are  my  promised  wife,  so  I  came  to 
you." 

Faith's  head  drooped  and  the  tears  rushed  to  her  eyes. 
He  had  spoken  with  great  simplicity,  but  what  seemed 

185 


FAITH  BRANDON 

simple  to  him  was  wonderful  to  her.  He  had  made  no 
protestations  of  love  or  devotion.  He  spoke  only  as  a 
conscientious  Christian  gentleman,  who  would  always  do 
his  duty  faithfully  by  her,  who  would  be  true  to  her  at 
whatever  sacrifice.  Such  a  man  was  not  of  those  who  waste 
their  lives  in  dissipation  and  infidelities!  Genevieve,  cynical 
and  irreligious,  might  not  comprehend  this  type,  but  the 
childish  heart  of  her  sister  had  truer  intuitions.  She  moved 
her  chair  closer  to  him  and  her  hand  stole  into  his. 

"My  trouble  was  as  nothing  in  comparison  to  yours," 
she  said,  gently.  "Had  you  let  me  know,  I  would  have  come 
to  console  you  and  watch  with  you." 

He  clasped  her  hand  closely  within  his,  then,  bending 
forward,  put  his  other  hand  under  her  chin  and  turned  her 
face  upward  toward  him.  It  was  an  eager,  sincere  face  that 
looked  into  his  with  fond,  trusting  eyes.  He  gave  a  curious 
half-smile  as  he  recalled  the  distressed  face  of  a  moment 
ago. 

"I  felt  sure  of  that,"  he  said,  quietly.  "I  did  not  for  one 
instant  suppose  that  my  Vyera  would  fail  me  in  my  hour 
of  need,  were  she  free  to  respond.  But  I  had  written  you 
many  times,  and  telegraphed  you  twice.  Did  you  not  know, 
Vy6ra,  that  I  must  have  done  so?" 

And  all  at  once  she  knew!  What  a  fool  she  had  been  to 
doubt  the  lover  who  had  always  been  devoted  to  her,  and 
not  suspect  the  sister  who  was  so  often  unkind! 

"Oh,  oh!"  she  cried  out  bitterly,  with  a  little,  choking 
sob.  "I  take  back  what  I  said  about  forgiving  Genevieve! 
I  never,  never  can!" 

"But  why  did  you  not  write  me,  simply  and  frankly,  to 
ask  what  was  wrong?"  he  inquired,  reproachfully. 

"Oh,  I  longed  and  longed  to  do  so,  but  felt  that  I  must 
not,"  explained  Faith,  "for  Rupert  had  said  I  was  only  to 
write  you  in  reply  to  your  letters  to  me  as  each  one  came, 
and  I  had  given  him  my  word." 

186 


A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH 

"Poor  little  Casabianca!"  said  Lady  Bowen,  smiling 
affectionately  at  her.  Then  she  turned  away  from  them 
and  busied  herself  at  her  desk,  that  the  two  might  talk  more 
freely  together. 

Solntsoff  bent  earnestly  toward  Faith.  "Do  not  grieve 
over  what  has  passed,  Vyerochka!"  he  said.  "You  have 
been  through  a  severe  test  of  your  faith  in  me,  you  have 
been  deeply  pained  by  your  sister's  action,  you  have  had 
many  distressing  experiences.  But  the  trial  is  over  now, 
and  you  have  gained  greatly  by  it.  You  are  a  woman, 
where  you  were  a  child.  You  understand  the  world,  and 
you  understand  me,  better  than  you  possibly  could  before. 
This  understanding  will  not  separate  us  but  only  draw  us 
together  in  closer,  friendlier  comprehension.  Let  us  thank 
God  for  that,  and  try  to  forgive  your  sister." 

And  Faith  did  indeed  thank  God  with  all  her  heart!  To 
be  sitting  hand  in  hand  with  her  lover,  to  feel  that  he  was  a 
clean,  upright,  God-fearing  man,  at  whose  side  she  could 
walk  confidently,  knowing  that  the  path  he  took  would 
lead  her,  as  Grigori  Sergevich  had  said,  ever  closer  and 
closer  to  the  throne  of  God  —  this  loving  faith,  this  happy 
confidence  was  in  itself  a  foretaste  of  heaven.  Every  beat 
of  her  young  heart  was  a  song  of  gratitude. 

Then,  suddenly,  Faith  fell  from  heaven!  For,  looking  up 
in  tenderest  response  at  her  lover,  she  saw  him  lean  back 
in  his  chair,  lift  his  hand  to  his  moustache  and  —  yawn! 
For  an  instant  her  mortification  was  intense.  Then  she 
remembered  that  he  must,  indeed,  be  mortally  weary  and 
sleepy  after  three  wakeful,  painful,  anxious  nights.  And  to 
think  that  he  had  put  aside  his  fatigue  and  grief  and,  leav- 
ing his  dear  ones  in  the  shadow  of  death,  had  come  all  this 
way  to  her  in  her  little  hour  of  trial! 

A  wave  of  almost  maternal  tenderness  flooded  her  heart. 
She  sprang  up  and  stood  by  his  side,  leaning  over  him 
affectionately  and  caressingly. 

187 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"You  need  a  good  rest  far  more  than  you  need  my  sym- 
pathy," she  said,  soothingly.  "I  shall  not  let  you  talk  any 
more  till  you  come  back  to  tea  at  five  o'clock.  You  must 
now  go  and  get  some  sleep." 

"I  could  not  have  slept  till  I  was  sure  all  was  right  with 
you,"  he  averred,  blinking  at  her  drowsily  and  contentedly. 
Apparently  he  did  not  in  the  least  object  to  being  petted  and 
made  much  of,  in  spite  of  being  so  big  and  strong  and  so 
thoughtful  of  others.  He  rose.  "And  you,  too,  should  rest 
after  your  exertions,  unless,"  he  suggested  teasingly,  "it  is 
a  part  of  your  accustomed  daily  exercise  to  drop  from  win- 
dows and  clamber  over  veranda  roofs!" 

But  Faith  fairly  pushed  him  out  of  the  room.  Then  she 
leaned  a  moment  against  the  door  with  drooping  head. 
How  shamed  she  felt  to  have  so  doubted  him,  to  have  so 
misread  his  weariness  and  grief! 

"Lady  Bowen,"  she  said,  solemnly,  "if  ever  again  I  should 
be  so  foolish,  so  insane,  as  to  doubt  that  man's  faithfulness 
and  goodness  for  one  single  instant,  then  kindly  just  remind 
me  of  this  day!" 

"It  is  really  extraordinary  how  he  loves  you,"  remarked 
Lady  Bowen,  watching  Solntsoff  from  the  window. 

"It  is  extraordinary,"  agreed  Faith,  humbly.  "I  cannot 
understand  it  at  all  in  so  clever  a  man.  Why  should  he 
choose  me?  It  seems  like  very  poor  judgment!" 

"  'It  is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone,' "  quoted  Lady  Bowen, 
softly  patting  her  shoulder.  "  Knyaz  Solntsoff  is  a  man  of 
strong  character  and  intellect,  who,  in  many  ways,  is  suf- 
,  ficient  unto  himself;  and  yet,  like  many  a  strong  and  clever 
[  man^bef orejiim,  he  feels  the  craving  for  something  to  supple- 
menf"Kis-  personality.  Your  individuality  appeals  to  him 
as  no'oiEer  woman's  has  done,  not  because  you  are  cleverer 
or  better/ but  because  you  have  qualities  that  respond  to 
his  special  needs;  and  therefore  he  craves  you,  just  you,  and 
no  one  else." 

188 


A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH 

"I  'fill  a  long-felt  want,'"  laughed  Faith,  but  the  tears 
lay  very  near  the  laughter.  "It  is  a  comforting  thought." 

Punctually  at  five  o'clock  Solntsoff  returned  to  Lady 
Bowen's  sitting-room,  accompanied  by  Alyonkin.  Re- 
freshed by  an  hour's  sound  sleep,  a  bath,  a  shave  and  fresh 
linen,  but  best  of  all,  cheered  by  a  despatch  saying  that  his 
uncle  had  taken  a  turn  for  the  better,  the  prince  was  a 
different  being;  and  Faith  surveyed  him  in  a  glow  of  pride 
and  joy. 

"That  other  man  was  a  great  trial  to  your  constancy  and 
trust,  was  he  not,  my  poor  Vyerochka?"  he  whispered,  slyly. 

But  Faith  would  not  deign  to  answer  such  a  question. 

Alyonkin  greeted  Faith,  his  good-humored  countenance 
wreathed  in  smiles. 

"Well,  well?"  he  inquired.  "How  did  my  wife's  pre- 
scription work?"* 

"Tell  dear  Anna  Nikolayevna,"  said  Faith,  earnestly, 
"that  when  Lyeff  Petrovich  is  with  me,  the  troubles  and 
wrongs  of  the  world  are  as  nothing,  for  there  is  only  he  and 
I,  we  two  alone,  with  the  good  God  watching  over  us,  and 
everything  holy  and  beautiful." 

"That  is  right!  That  is  right!  That  is  as  it  should  be! " 
said  the  bluff,  kindly  man,  pressing  her  hands  in  his  own, 
his  eyes  moist  with  feeling.  "But,  there!  Lyova  needed  the 
prescription  badly,  too!  Even  his  vindication  was  nothing 
when  he  did  not  hear  from  you." 

"His  vindication?"  asked  Faith,  wonderingly. 

Alyonkin  stared  at  her,  then  stared  at  Solntsoff.  "You 
do  not  mean  that  he  has  not  yet  told  you?"  he  exclaimed, 
loudly. 

Lyeff  Petrovich  smiled  tenderly  at  Faith.  "  She  did  not 
ask,  and  I  was  in  no  haste  to  explain,"  he  said.  "I  took  a 
mean,  selfish  delight  in  seeing  that  she  could  be  happy  with 
me  even  under  a  cloud.  Eh,  Vyerochka?  " 

"If  you  are  under  a  cloud  I  am  happy  to  be  there  with 

189 


FAITH  BRANDON 

you,  but  I  am  not  happy  that  there  should  be  a  cloud,"  she 
explained. 

"Of  course  not!"  burst  in  Alyonkin,  "but  I  see  I  shall 
have  to  do  the  telling,  for  you  two  will  talk  sentiment  for 
an  hour,  if  some  sensible  person  does  not  come  to  the  rescue. 
Vyera  Karlovna,  the  Gosudar  was  only  relieving  Lyeff 
Petrovich  from  his  duties  at  the  Foreign  Office  to  transfer 
him  to  a  higher  post  in  the  Private  Chancery,  making  him  a 
D.  S.  S.*  His  release  from  one  office  and  promotion  to  the 
other  by  Imperial  Oukaz  were  officially  gazetted  together 
in  yesterday's  journals.  But  you  know  our  Russian  calendar 
is  thirteen  days  behind  that  of  Western  Europe?  Some 
one  in  the  Foreign  Office  blundered,  probably  with  malice, 
in  sending  Lyova  the  private  notification  of  his  release 
on  the  Western,  instead  of  on  the  Russian  date;  the  news- 
papers got  hold  of  it  through  some  leakage  in  the  depart- 
ment, and  there  has  been  all  this  ado  about  nothing." 

But  when  she  turned  to  congratulate  him  on  his  pro- 
motion, to  her  surprise  Solntsoff  looked  very  grave.  When 
they  had  had  tea,  he  asked  her  to  accompany  him  to  the 
telegraph  bureau  to  send  a  message  to  his  sister  that  he 
would  return  to  Aix  by  the  night  train. 

"What  would  you  think,  Faith,"  he  asked,  as  they  walked 
through  the  hall  and  down  the  stairway  together,  "if  I  did 
not  accept  the  promotion?" 

"Not  accept!"  she  exclaimed.  Then  she  was  silent, 
thinking  very  hard,  and  he,  too,  was  silent,  looking  intently 
at  nothing.  At  last  she  said,  "I  should  know  that  you 
must  have  a  good  reason  for  refusing,  but  you  must  not 
feel  in  the  least  obliged  to  tell  me  your  reason.  Your 
public  life,  your  government  life,  does  not  belong  to  me. 
You  must  decide  things  there  just  as  you  did  before  you 
knew  of  my  existence." 

"My  reasons  are  not  state  secrets.     They  are  purely 

*  Dyeistvitelny  Statsky  SovyStnik,  i.e.,  Actual  State-Councillor. 

190 


A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH! 

personal,  and  I  am  glad  to  share  them  with  you,"  he  said, 
frankly.  "Though  I  have  been  promoted,  yet  there  is  no 
doubt  that  I  was  transferred  because  my  manner  of  conduct- 
ing affairs  was  not  acceptable  to  my  associates.  But  I 
should  carry  the  same  methods,  the  same  personal  charac- 
teristics, into  the  new  branch  of  the  service  and  there  would 
soon  be  the  same  friction.  It  seems  to  me  I  should  serve 
more  loyally  by  not  subjecting  my  superiors  to  fresh  em- 
barrassments on  my  account,  but  by  remaining  out  of  office 
and  working  out  my  aims  and  ideals,  as  I  intended  eventually 
to  do,  by  my  pen  only,  and  on  my  sole  personal  responsibility. 
Even  if  I  accepted  the  honors  it  would  be  to  resign  them  in 
another  year,  and  that  seems  too  much  like  taking  them 
only  for  my  vindication  and  personal  convenience.  What 
do  you  think?" 

"I  fear  you  are  scrupulous,"  she  said,  "and  I  know  you 
are  proud,  but  I  believe  you  are  right.  I  should  like  to 
see  you  honored  and  vindicated;  but,  still  more,  I  should 
like  to  see  you  with  your  conscience  at  ease,  happy  in  your 
life  work,  doing  what  you  feel  you  can  best  do,  and  in  the 
way  you  feel  you  can  best  do  it." 

"It  is  such  a  comfort  to  me  that  you  are  so  sensible," 
he  said,  tenderly. 

"I  might  not  be  so  sensible,  if  you  were  not  so  trust- 
worthy," she  replied,  affectionately. 

And  so  they  were  well  content  with  one  another. 

As  they  started  to»cross  the  garden  Faith  drew  back.  It 
was  the  hour  for  afternoon  tea,  and  the  numerous  tables 
scattered  about  the  veranda  and  the  shady  lawn  were  occu- 
pied by  the  guests,  chiefly  feminine,  of  the  Pension. 

"I  am  not  fit  to  be  seen  in  this  costume,"  she  said. 
"I  will  stop  here." 

"You  look  very  fit  to  me,"  he  "replied,  gallantly;  but 
seeing  how  shyly  she  hung  back,  he  left  her  and  crossed  the 
garden  alone. 

191 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Faith's  eyes  followed  him  with  eager  gaze.  How  proud 
she  was  of  the  tall  figure,  the  straight,  shapely  limbs,  the 
light,  easy  movements,  the  simple,  unassuming  grace  of 
bearing  so  attractive  in  the  big,  stately  man.  She  could 
hear  the  murmur  of  interest  and  admiration  that  ran  from 
table  to  table  as  he  passed.  Evidently  his  identity  was  not 
known. 

"Who  is  it?  Who  can  it  be?  Very  gentlemanlike, 
distinguished  bearing!  Very  strong,  refined,  clever 
face!  Such  a  charming  manner!  Probably  some  Eng- 
lish aristocrat,"  were  some  of  the  comments  she  over- 
heard. 

And  among  these  now  paying  tribute  to  his  refined  and 
manly  personality  were  many  who,  never  having  seen  him, 
had  not  hesitated  to  denounce  him  to  her,  had  dared  to  try 
and  destroy  her  peace  of  mind  and  break  up  a  future  happy 
home! 

As  he  threaded  his  way  with  gentle,  unaffected  courtesy  in 
and  out  among  the  crowded  tables,  the  "Ungathered  Roses" 
sat  up  very  straight  and  assumed  their  brightest  smiles;  the 
grass-widow  moved  her  chair  forward,  obliging  him  to  ex- 
change words  of  apology  in  passing;  a  group  of  young 
women  chattered  vivaciously  and  laughed  giddily  as  he 
approached,  an  English  beauty  looked  up  at  him  with  lan- 
guorous glance,  and  two  demure  German  spinsters  blushed, 
simpered  and  looked  down.  He  was  making  a  sensation! 
Faith  giggled  delightedly. 

As  he  stepped  up  from  the  lawn  on  to  the  opposite  ve- 
randa he  turned  and,  seeing  Faith  standing  in  the  shelter  of 
the  distant  doorway,  took  off  his  hat  in  farewell  salute  to  her 
before  entering  the  office.  All  eyes  were  instantly  directed 
toward  her.  It  was  a  little  moment  of  triumph  which 
she  felt  she  deserved  after  what  she  had  passed  through. 
She  was  sorry  she  had  not  on  her  best  frock;  she  must  look 
so  painfully  young  and  childish  in  the  short  skirt  and  sailor 

192 


A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH 

blouse  of  her  tennis  costume.  She  heard  a  low  voice  calling 
excitedly  to  her.  It  was  the  eldest  "Ro.se." 

"Oh,  Miss  Faith!  Do  tell  us!  Is  that  your  brother? 
What  a  perfectly  charming  gentleman!  We  shall  all  hope 
for  the  pleasure  of  meeting  him." 

"My  brother?  Oh,  no,  that  is  not  Rupert!"  said  Faith, 
who  was  enjoying  herself  immensely.  "But  he  is  a  friend 
of  my  brother's  and  a  still  better  friend  of  mine;  and  I  want 
to  claim  your  good  wishes  for  us  both! "  and  she  held  out  her 
hand  cordially. 

"Oh!  er  — is  it  — er— "  faltered  the  "Rose,"  slowly 
extending  a  hand  that  had  suddenly  grown  somewhat  limp. 

"Yes,  it  is  my  fiance,  Prince  Solntsoff  of  St.  Petersburg," 
said  Faith,  giving  a  hearty  grasp  and  shake  to  the  limp 
member.  "He  is,  indeed,  a  splendid  man,  and  I  should  like 
you  all  to  meet  him  and  know  just  how  fine  he  is,  and  that  I 
have  every  reason  to  be  a  very  happy  girl."  She  dropped 
the  unwilling  hand  and  entered  the  house. 

"Is  there  anything  meaner  than  national  prejudice?" 
she  asked  herself,  hotly.  "Now  that  they  know  he  is  a 
Russian  they  will  forget  that  they  instinctively  admired 
him  and  will  continue  to  believe  the  worst."  Her  little 
triumph  was  a  sorry  failure,  after  all! 

But  the  news  of  Solntsoff's  vindication  and  promotion 
to  high  favor  was  spread  diligently  about  the  Pension  by 
Lady  Bowen  and  gazetted  in  the  evening  papers,  so  that 
when,  two  hours  later,  she  and  Faith  came  down  to  the 
carriage  to  drive  to  the  Alyonkins'  villa,  they  found  several 
fellow-guests  waiting  to  bid  them  good-bye.  The  youngest 
"Rose"  came  up  to  Faith  and  slipped  a  package  into  her 
hand. 

"We  are  so  glad  for  you  that  everything  has  turned  out 
right,"  she  whispered.  "I  am  so  sorry  if  anything  we 
said  added  to  your  trouble.  Of  course,  we  had  never  seen 
Prince  Solntsoff;  we  were  only  warning  you  because  we 

193 


FAITH  BRANDON 

had  known  of  so  many  unhappy  affairs.  But  since  we  have 
seen  him,  we  feel  sure  that  he  is  a  very  exceptional  man  and 
that  you  will  be  very  happy.  My  sister  and  I  hope  that  you 
will  think  this  little  frame  worthy  to  hold  his  picture 
and  that  you  will  remember  you  have  our  very  best 
wishes." 

Faith  was  touched.  She  drew  the  "Rose"  toward  her 
and  kissed  her  affectionately,  assuring  her  that  she  would 
use  the  frame  with  pleasure  for  the  purpose  designed.  Then 
the  others  gathered  about  her  and  seemed  truly  sorry  to 
have  her  leave. 

"I  suppose  they  meant  well,"  sighed  Faith.  "I  suspect 
it  is  true  that  there  are  not  many  men  like  Lyeff  Petrovich, 
so  clever  and  so  good,"  and  she  forgave  them  from  the  bot- 
tom of  her  heart. 

They  made  a  merry  party  at  the  villa  that  evening.  "I 
will  not  ask  Genevieve's  permission  to  enter  my  room,  if 
I  live  in  tennis  clothes  till  I  die,"  Faith  had  said,  grimly. 
So  she  came  to  them  just  as  she  was.  But  Grafinia  Alyon- 
kina  had  decked  her  out  in  a  black  lace  evening  gown  with 
square  neck  and  train,  which,  with  her  hair  coiled  on  top  of 
her  head,  made  her  look  very  grown-up  and  dignified.  They 
drank  to  the  health  of  their  dear  ones,  absent  and  present, 
and  to  the  confusiorTof  their  enemies,  while  two  telegrams 
from  Rupert  Milbanke  enlivened  the  occasion. 

"Mine  is  very  characteristic,"  said  Solntsoff,  amused. 
"T  wrote  him  two  days  ago  in  distress  at  not  hearing  from 
Faith.  This  is  his  explanation.  'Cat  is  tormenting  mouse. 
Dog  will  proceed  to  worry  cat.'" 

"Here  is  mine,"  said  Lady  Bowen.  "'Do  not  let  Faith 
submit  to  injustice.  If  convenient,  kindly  remove  her  at 
once.  I  arrive  to-morrow  to  settle  details.'  The  cat  had 
better  be  on  the  watch!" 

"To-morrow!"  cried  Faith.  "Oh,  what  trouble  I  give 
to  every  one!" 

194 


A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH 

The  next  morning  saw  Milbanke  arrive  in  fine  fettle  for 
a  fight. 

"Oh,  Rupert,  what  did  you  think  when  I  could  not" give 
you  any  satisfaction  about  Lye"ff  Petrovich?"  asked  Faith, 
eagerly. 

"I  thought  there  would  be  the  deuce  to  pay  with  your 
sister!"  he  replied,  dryly. 

"I  mean,  did  you  credit  the  rumors?" 

"Well,  no,  Puss!  I  did  not  lie  awake  nights  worrying 
about  such  a  steady  old  Rock  of  Gibraltar  as  Solntsoff!  If 
I  had  not  known  him  to  be  trustworthy,  do  you  think  I 
would  let  him  have  you?  But  don't  detain  me.  I  can't 
rest  till  I  have  a  bout  with  that  sister  of  yours!  Faith,  you 
don't  know  half  yet.  The  Stourdzas  have  been  telling  me 
some  things  they  learned  from  SolntsofFs  sister;  of  how  Miss 
Genevieve  tried  to  poison  their  minds  against  the  whole 
Ludlow  clan,  when  at  Yalta.  Wait  till  I  tell  his  Lordship! 
I  am  afraid  there  will  be  some  very  unecclesiastical  doings 
and  sayings!  But  I  must  have  the  first  round." 

"I  venture  to  predict  that  you  will  come  out  second 
best,"  laughed  Faith. 

Genevieve  Brandon  chose  to  receive  Mr.  Milbanke  in  the 
public  reception  room  instead  of  in  her  own  little  parlor. 
She  looked  very  gentle,  very  appealingly  and  delicately 
fair,  a  veritable  Patient  Griselidis. 

"I  feel  perfectly  justified  in  having  taken  the  measures  I 
did,"  she  said  in  languid  tones,  with  the  air  of  one  who  had 
suffered  much  for  justice's  sake.  "  My  conscience  is  absolutely 
clear.  No  one  knows  that  child  as  I  do.  You,  Mr.  Mil- 
banke, have  only  had  occasional  visits  with  her  at  intervals 
of  years.  Bishop  Ludlow  has  seen  so  little  of  his  niece  that 
if  he  met  her  unexpectedly  in  the  street  he  would  not  know 
her,  while  I  have  taken  a  mother's  place  to  her  for  many 
years." 

"Excuse  me,  Miss  Brandon,"  he  interrupted.     "I  am  not 


FAITH  BRANDON 

here  to  discuss  Faith's  character.  I  simply  ask  you  to 
restore  the  letters  which  my  sister  had  permission  from  me 
and  from  her  uncle  to  receive,  and  which  have  been  inter- 
cepted and  kept  from  her." 

"Nothing  was  intercepted  and  kept  from  her,  Mr.  Mil- 
banke,"  said  Genevieve,  languidly  but  firmly,  "until  the 
uncle  who  had  permitted  the  correspondence  wrote  to  warn 
me  against  Prince  SolntsoS,  giving  me  full  power  to  act 
as  seemed  best.  The  mail  was  always  delivered  to  me  as 
head  of  the  family,  and  day  after  day  I  gave  Faith  her 
letters  unopened.  But  Bishop  Ludlow  had  laid  a  respon- 
sibility upon  me  that  I  could  not  avoid,  and  I  did  what  I 
felt  he  would  have  done  had  he  been  on  the  spot,  —  I  ex- 
amined one  of  the  prince's  letters.  What  I  read  shocked  me 
beyond  measure,  and  convinced  me  that  it  was  my  duty  to 
examine  and,  if  necessary,  to  withhold  all  future  letters." 

"You  have  made  a  serious  charge  against  Solntsoff's 
honor,"  said  Milbanke,  gravely.  "If  you  will  show  me  his 
letters  and  I  find  that  he  has  not  justified  my  faith  in  him, 
I  will  apologize  to  you  most  sincerely,  and  at  once  change  my 
attitude  toward  him." 

"Oh!"  said  Genevieve,  slowly.  "Then  you  claim  the 
same  right  that  I  do  to  examine  her  letters?" 

"Faith  has  expressed  her  entire  willingness  to  have  me 
do  so;  and  Solntsoff  is  most  desirous  I  should,  as  his  honor 
is  questioned." 

"I  think,"  and  Genevieve  measured  her  words  carefully, 
"that  when  the  prince  expressed  a  desire  to  have  you  ex- 
amine his  letters  he  was  quite  aware  of  the  fact  that  you 
could  not  do  so,  as  they  have  been  destroyed.  Faith,  at 
least,  knew  I  had  destroyed  the  first  and  most  incriminating 
one." 

Milbanke  grew  very  red.  "I  regret  you  did  not  tell  me 
this  at  once  and  cut  short  a  painful  interview.  You  must 
see,  Miss  Brandon,  that  in  destroying  the  letters  you  have 

196 


A  TRIAL  OF  FAITH 

also  destroyed  the  only  proof  you  have  to  give  of  their  char- 
acter in  justification  of  your  withholding  them." 

"You  mean,"  said  Genevieve,  "that  it  becomes  a  question 
of  veracity  between  Prince  Solntsoff  and  myself?  I  was 
aware  of  that,  but  I  also  knew  the  importance  of  keeping 
Faith  from  being  contaminated  by  them.  A  girl  who  would 
defy  my  authority,  climb  out  of  a  window  to  the  scandal  of 
the  entire  Pension,  and  have  clandestine  meetings  with  her 
lover  in  the  room  of  a  comparative  stranger,  would  hesitate 
at  nothing  to  possess  herself  of  those  letters,  did  she  believe 
them  to  be  in  existence.  I  protected  her  rather  than  justify 
myself." 

"Miss  Brandon,"  said  Milbanke,  coldly.  "We  under- 
stand each  other.  You  know  the  truth  about  Faith  as  well 
as  I  know  it.  I  did  not  come  here  to  insult  you  or  to  hear 
her  insulted.  I  came  to  claim  the  letters..  You  tell  me 
they  are  destroyed.  Therefore,  they  can  never  be  pro- 
duced to  justify  either  side.  It  only  remains  for  me  to 
send  for  Faith's  boxes.  Her  home  from  henceforth  will  be 
with  me.  In  the  meanwhile,  Prince  Solntsoff 's  promotion 
must  effectually  silence  his  calumniators." 

"I  understand,"  drawled  Genevieve,  "that  there  is  much 
to  be  hushed  up.  No  doubt  this  promotion  is  the  easiest 
way  to  procure  the  desired  silence." 

If  Milbanke  was  red  before,  he  was  now  white  with  rage. 
"Damn  that  woman!"  he  thought.  "How  could  Faith 
keep  from  choking  her?"  He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  Gene- 
vieve rose  also,  and  bowed  haughtily. 

"I  think  there  is  nothing  further  to  be  said,  Mr.  Mil- 
banke, except  that  I  give  up  my  rooms  at  noon,  and  Faith's 
boxes  will  be  left  there  at  your  disposal.  I  wash  my  hands 
of  all  further  responsibility  about  her,  and  am  returning 
to  America  to  devote  myself  to  my  father.  I  only  hope 
my  fears  for  her  may  never  be  realized." 

She  bowed  again. 

197 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Milbanke  also  bowed,  and  left  the  room.  His  teetn  were 
clinched,  and  he  had  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that  he  had 
indeed  come  out  second  best.  "Never  shall  Faith  get  into 
the  clutches  of  that  fiend  incarnate  again!"  he  growled. 

Genevieve  watched  the  slim,  well-groomed  figure  till  out 
of  sight.  "To  think,"  she  mused,  "that  I  came  near  marry- 
ing that  puppy!" 


198 


CHAPTER  XIV 


HIS   LIFE  S   RELATIONS 

"The  religious  music  of  the  Russians  is  the  only  one  that  expresses 
any  true  piety.  Its  gravity,  unction  and  sweetness  are  beyond  question. 
If  a  religious  music  truly  Christian  ever  existed,  the  Russians  have 
inherited  it." 

—  VaiM. 

"I  wish  you  well  through  all  the  acts  of  life, 
And  life's  relations  —  wedlock  not  the  least!" 

—  E.  B.  Browning. 

"St.  Petersburg,  Dec.  26  (JAN.  8). 
"  Bolshaya.  Morskaya,  No. — 
"MR.  BRANDON  LUDLOW, 
"Harvard  University. 

"DEAR  BRANDY: 

"Am  I  not  lucky  to  have  two  Christmases  this  year? 
The  first  one  I  spent  with  Rupert  and  his  darling  boys  in 
his  dear  little  house  in  Brussels,  where  I  have  been  ever 
since  we  left  Montreux.  Oh,  how  happy  we  were  together! 
though  I  could  see  sometimes  that  it  made  poor  Rupert 
wince  to  have  me  taking  Amy's  place.  I  left  Brussels  right 
after  Christmas,  marshaled  by  a  prim  lady's  maid,  of  whom 
I  stand  dreadfully  in  awe.  We  came  round  by  way  of 
Moscow,  where  Countess  Chernyatina  met  us,  for  Lyeff 
wanted  me  to  see  that  wonderful  city,  which  he  says  is  the 
heart  and  the  brains  of  Russia. 

"Now  I  am  having  my  second  Christmas,  by  the  Russian 
calendar,  in  the  city  of  Peter  the  Great,  where  I  and  my  'suite' 
are  duly  established  in  the  superb  Kliazemski  palace. 
The  dear  old  prince  has  recovered  his  strength  wonderfully, 
and  is  a  most  delightful  host.  He  seems  so  happy  in  his 
home,  with  his  favorite  books  and  chairs  about  him,  and 
old  friends  dropping  in  at  all  hours  for  a  chat  and  a  cup 
of  tea. 

199 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"But  first  I  had  a  week  in  the  country  at  Shumdrovo, 
the  estate  of  Prince  Kliazemski's  eldest  daughter.  It  is  a  big, 
luxurious  chateau  about  halfway  between  Moscow  and 
St.  Petersburg.  The  country  is  flat,  but  the  forests  and 
fields  and  a  lake  make  it  very  diversified  and  pretty.  They 
have  a  large  peasant  tenantry,  and  the  farms  and  cottages 
look  very  prosperous  and  clean.  Lyeff  came  down  for  the 
week-end  with  some  other  cousins  and  friends.  The  family 
lead  very  much  the  life  of  English  country  gentry,  except  for 
more  winter  sports,  riding,  shooting,  tennis,  skating  and 
sledging,  and  much  dining  and  visiting  with  neighbors,  games, 
dancing,  singing  round  the  big  fires,  late  suppers,  etc.  They 
interest  themselves  a  great  deal  in  the  peasantry,  the  village 
school,  the  church  and  the  hospital.  And  all  are  so  de- 
lightfully democratic,  the  peasants  calling  the  family  by 
their  Christian  names  without  any  handle,  and  the  family  on 
their  side  so  courteous,  and  knowing  all  about  the  peasants' 
smallest  interests.  I  am  beginning  to  love  Russia  already. 

You  are  so  fond  of  sports  and  athletics,  I  wish  you 
could  see  Lyeff  fencing,  and  riding  and  boxing  with  his  cousins 
and  their  friends.  He  turns  out  to  be  a  fine  swordsman 
and  a  splendid  horseman,  skates  and  dances  well  and  can 
swim,  row,  shoot,  wrestle,  and  I  don't  know  what  else  be- 
sides! I  admit  it  was  a  surprise  to  me.  I  asked  him  why 
he  never  talked  about  athletics,  and  he  said  that  these 
things  were  the  usual  accomplishments  of  a  gentleman,  a 
part  of  his  regular  education,  and  that  they  took  them  as  a 
matter  of  course,  as  mere  exercise  and  recreation. 

"But  St.  Petersburg  itself!  I  have  only  been  here  a 
few  days  and  I  am  overwhelmed  with  all  there  is  to  see  and 
do.  Christmas  is  in  full  swing,  the  magnificent  churches 
thronged,  the  streets  brilliant  and  merry  with  the  holiday 
crowds,  and  bright  with  uniforms  and  the  costumes  of 
different  nationalities.  The  gay  social  season  begins  as 
soon  as  the  religious  festivities  are  over;  but  I  do  not  expect 
to  go  to  balls,  although  I  wear  my  dresses  long  now  and  do 
my  hair  up,  for  am  I  not  seventeen  and  a  half  and 
betrothed?  However,  I  am  having  a  very  jolly  time, 
for  the  old  prince  has  shoals  of  nephews  and  nieces  and 
grandchildren,  and  all  are  so  pleasant  and  merry.  There 
is  nothing  stiff  about  the  life  here,  all  are  so  unaffectedly 
cordial  and  jovial,  and,  in  spite 'of  the  grandeur  of  the  pal- 

200 


HIS  LIFE'S  RELATIONS 

ace  and  the  luxurious  surroundings,  everything  is  simple. 
People  drop  in  at  any  hour,  are  always  welcome,  and  never 
seem  to  expect  anything  but  tea.  They  talk  their  heads 
off,  politics,  literature,  the  drama;  they  devour  reviews  and 
magazines,  discuss  them  endlessly  and,  for  the  most  part, 
wittily  and  with  startling  frankness.  Many  that  come  are 
celebrities.  The  young  people  get  up  all  sorts  of  impromptu 
entertainments  in  the  evenings:  charades,  tableaux,  music 
and  fancy  dances,  and  yesterday  the  young  officers  gave  an 
exhibition  of  wonderful  horsemanship  at  the  riding-school 
of  the  Chevaliers  Gardes. 

"How  I  wish  uncle  could  be  here  for  the  Christmas  and 
Epiphany  ceremonies!  I  never  dreamed  there  could  be 
such  heavenly  music  on  this  sinful  earth.  It  seems  like 
heaven,  too,  to  see  so  many  external  evidences  of  religion 
on  every  hand,  the  street  shrines,  the  processions,  the  deep 
reverence  of  the  people,  high  and  low;  religious  emblems 
prominent  in  every  room,  whether  palace  or  hovel.  Fancy 
walking  on  Fifth  Avenue  or  Beacon  Street  with  a  dashing 
society  fellow,  and  having  him  suddenly  take  off  his  hat  and 
bow  almost  to  the  ground;  you  look  up  and  see  that  you 
are  passing  before  a  picture  of  the  '  Ecce  Homo '  /  Oh,  one 
cannot  forget  God  in  such  surroundings. 

"I  have  seen  little  of  the  city  but  the  outside  yet,  as  we 
have  been  taken  up  with  the  family  merry-makings  and  the 
religious  ceremonials.  We  had  a  big  Christmas-tree  last 
night  here  at  the  palace,  all  the  relatives  young  and  old, 
the  servants  and  their  families,  and  the  children  of  the 
employees  and  tradespeople,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
in  all,  in  the  big  ballroom.  The  priest,  attended  by  deacons 
and  choristers,  came  to  sing  the  gospels  and  bless  everything 
in  sight.  I  don't  know  what  Russians'  spines  are  made  of! 
They  stand  and  stand  for  hours  through  these  long  cere- 
monies, for  only  the  old  and  the  sick  are  permitted  to  sit 
in  church.  Pews  would  shock  them  beyond  all  measure. 
Even  in  the  palace,  after  we  were  tired  out  trimming  the  tree 
and  tying  bundles,  there  was  half  an  hour  more  of  standing 
for  the  gospels  and  blessings.  Nobody  seemed  to  mind  it 
but  my,  as  yet,  un-Orthodox  self.  Their  'true-worshipping' 
muscles  are  accustomed  to  it.  After  the  piety  was  over  the 
democratic  jollity  began,  the  presents  were  distributed,  there 
was  singing  and  dancing  and  drinking  healths  and  a  good 

201 


FAITH  BRANDON 

supper,  with  everybody  jovial  and  happy.      It   was  the 
merriest  Christmas  I  ever  knew." 

Indeed,  Faith  had  never  before  been  so  much  thrown  with 
young  people  of  her  own  age,  and  in  working  gayly  together 
at  the  Christmas-tree  she  had  become  delightfully  intimate 
with  her  future  husband's  circle  of  friends  and  relatives. 

Solntsoff  looked  on  at  the  merry  gathering  of  gilded  youths 
and  maidens  for  whose  amusement  the  elaborate  preparations 
were  being  made.  He  thought  of  his  own  exceeding  happi- 
ness in  the  present  Christmas,  and  of  the  happiness  he 
might  reasonably  look  forward  to  on  coming  returns  of 
the  holy  feast.  Faith,  passing  near  with  an  armful  of 
beribboned  bundles,  stopped  and  looked  up  at  him. 

"You  seem  very  thoughtful,  Lionel.  Has  anything  sad- 
dened you?" 

He  drew  her  aside,  "God  has  been  so  good  to  us,  he  is 
giving  us  such  a  happy  festival  together,  Vyera,"  he  said. 
"How  would  it  be  if  you  and  I  should  show  our  gratitude 
by  bringing  happiness  to  some  poor  children  of  misery?  It 
is  true  that  all  here,  both  young  and  old,  are  doing  for  the 
poor  in  one  way  or  another,  for  they  have  kind  Russian 
hearts,  but  I  mean  something  personal  to  you  and  me,  in  a 
very  simple  way,  in  my  rooms,  —  something  we  can  prepare 
together." 

Faith  responded  with  enthusiasm.  What  a  beautiful 
remembrance  to  have  of  their  first  Christmas  together  that 
it  had  been  devoted  to  consoling  the  poor  and  the  desolate! 
"And  you  will  let  me  take  a  real  share  in  it,  will  you  not?" 
she  begged.  "A  little  bit  of  self-denial,  something  that  I 
should  spend  on  a  ball-gown  that  I  do  not  need,  or  an  ex- 
travagant present  to  you  that  you  would  have  no  use  for?" 

"That  would  be  my  self-denial!"  he  replied,  laughingly. 

It  was  a  day  of  exquisite  happiness  that  he  and  Faith 
spent  together  in  arranging  for  their  small  waifs.  There 

202 


HIS  LIFE'S  RELATIONS 

were  seventeen  little  objects  of  charity  in  honor  of  Faith's 
seventeen  years.  They  were  scarcely  more  than  babies,  and 
several  of  them  cripples.  Solntsoff  's  share  of  the  work  had 
been  to  gather  them  together,  to  take  them  to  the  public 
baths  where  they  were  steamed  and  scrubbed  after  the 
sanitary  Russian  manner,  to  put  them  into  good,  warm,  new 
clothes  and  shoes,  to  provide  a  wholesome  supper  and,  for 
each  child,  a  basket  of  groceries  and  tea  and  simple  sweet- 
meats to  take  back  to  its  squalid  home.  To  Faith  fell  the 
more  frivolous  part  of  the  work,  to  decorate  the  tree  and  to 
buy  the  presents,  durable  toys,  brightly-colored  pictures, 
ribbons  for  the  girls,  mufflers  for  the  boys.  But  even  in  the 
matter  of  toys  she  felt  Solntsoff 's  guiding  hand. 

"  Petrusha,  the  biggest  boy,  should  have  a  hand- 
sledge,  to  carry  the  laundry  baskets  for  his  mother. 
Besides,  he  can  drag  his  little  lame  sister  to  church  on  it. 
Vanya,  the  deformed  lad,  should  have  some  simple  tools, 
he  is  so  clever  with  his  hands  and  makes  wonderful  toys 
with  a  knife  I  once  gave  him.  A  box  of  colors  for  Masha. 
The  girl  is  deaf  and  nearly  dumb,  but  her  attempts  at  paint- 
ing are  full  of  promise  and  should  be  encouraged.  Such  a 
wretched  home!  But  all  the  children  are  intelligent  and 
worthy  of  help,  and  they  are  so  good  and  unselfish  to  one 
another.  You  would  be  greatly  interested  in  them." 

And  again  Faith  was  astonished  by  the  revelation  of  a  side 
of  her  betrothed's  character  which  she  had  not  suspected. 
He  had  never  spoken  to  her  of  his  work  among  the  poor, 
just  as  he  had  never  told  her  of  his  proficiency  in  manly 
sports.  As  it  was  part  of  the  education  of  a  gentleman  to 
ride  and  shoot,  to  fence  and  swim,  so  he  seemed  to  consider 
it  belonged  to  the  life  of  a  Christian  to  devote  a  portion  of 
his  activities  to  works  of  charity.  These  were  matters 
of  course.  The  only  things  in  his  busy  life  for  which  he  had 
claimed  her  sympathetic  attention  were  his  literary  ambi- 
tions and  his  political  principles. 

203 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Avdotia  Ilinichna,*  the  kindly  old  nurse  and  confidential 
family  servant,  had  accompanied  Faith  to  the  shops  and  to 
Solntsoff's  rooms,  where  his  mother's  governess  and  his  pres- 
ent landlady,  Mrs.  Palmgren,  presided  over  the  little  feast. 
Father  Gavriil,  who  had  blessed  the  festival  at  the  princely 
palace,  came  also  to  the  modest  bachelor  apartment  to  bless 
the  festival  of  the  little  unfortunate  children  of  the  poor. 
And  here,  too,  there  was  laughter  and  happiness,  all  the  more 
that  it  was  so  new  and  amazing  to  the  little  ones,  so  full  of 
pathos  for  their  elders. 

Solntsoff 's  eyes  were  alight  with  subdued  merriment  when 
he  had  presented  Mrs.  Palmgren  to  Faith;  and  she  at  once 
took  a  great  fancy  to  the  kindly,  warm-hearted  governess, 
who  had  educated  two  generations  of  little  Solntsoffs. 

After  the  festival  Solntsoff,  Father  Gavriil  and  Mrs. 
Palmgren  conducted  the  children  with  their  treasures  to 
the  poor  homes  they  were  to  brighten,  and  Faith  returned 
with  Avdotia  to  the  palace,  where,  as  usual,  Countess  Chern- 
yatina  and  half  a  dozen  relatives  were  dining  with  the  old 
prince. 

"Vyera  Karlovna,  you  must  absolutely  skate  with  us  at 
the  Tavrida  Garden,"  exclaimed  young  Boris  Kliazemski, 
who  was  in  the  Corps  of  Pages.  "The  Chevaliers  Gardes 
have  flooded  the  grounds,  and  it  is  the  most  fashionable  spot 
in  Peterburg  at  the  present  moment.  Every  afternoon 
from  three  to  five  it  is  crowded  —  the  officers  of  the  swell 
regiments,  the  grand-princes,  all  the  prettiest  society  girls. 
Oh,  it  is  something  to  see!  Such  skating!  Such  costumes!" 

"But  I  do  not  skate  well  enough,  I  shall  disgrace  myself," 
apologized  Faith.  "I  never  skated  in  my  life  till  last  winter, 
when  I  went  to  the  Anlagen  with  the  German  schoolgirls, 
and  we  used  to  cling  around  each  other's  necks  and  scream, 
because  the  ice  was  so  slippery!  Moreover,  I  have  no  stun- 
ning  costume  to  wear.  I  strongly  advise  you  to  retract 

*  Eudoxia,  daughter  of  Julius. 

204 


HIS  LIFE'S  RELATIONS 

your  invitation  or  I  might,  in  an  evil  hour,  accept  it  to  your 
everlasting  regret." 

"I  will  help  you  out  about  the  costume,"  said  Natalia 
Petrovna.  "I  told  you  not  to  worry  about  your  wardrobe. 
You  could  not  be  expected,  coming  from  a  temperate  climate, 
to  have  everything  for  our  cold  winters.  We  have  furs  in 
abundance  to  lend  you." 

"I  have  an  idea,"  suggested  Boris  Borissovich.  "Let 
us  go  and  practise  to-morrow  morning  at  the  Islands.  The 
ice  is  fine  and  no  one  ever  skates  there  in  the  forenoon  except 
a  few  who  go  for  exercise  and  long  distance  skating.  No  one 
will  see  us,  and  you  can  hang  round  my  neck  all  you  please." 

"What  is  this  I  hear?"  asked  Solntsoff,  entering  at  that 
moment  and  helping  himself  to  the  zakouska*  at  the  side 
table.  "You  pages  were  always  an  insolent  set!" 

"Oh,  nothing!"  said  Borya,  airily,  "Vyera  Karlovna  has 
accepted  me  for  her  escort,  —  that  is  all.  Quite  an  everyday 
affair  for  me  to  cut  out  a  rival.  Meet  me  at  the  entrance 
gate,  Vyera,  my  soul!  I  shall  be  there  with  my  troika.f 
Can  you  be  up  as  early  as  ten  and  breakfast  before 
eleven?" 

"Early!"  echoed  Faith.  "I  cannot  get  used  to  your 
Russian  hours.  Fancy,  last  winter  I  was  at  school  every 
morning  at  eight." 

"Barbarous!"  exclaimed  Borya,  who  would  not  for  any- 
thing admit  that  the  pages'  hours  of  service  were  quite  as 
barbarous.  "Schoolchildren  may  perhaps  survive  it,  but 
not  civilized  men  and  women.  But  now  you  are  many  de- 
grees further  north.  It  is  dark  night  till  nearly  ten  o'clock 
and  I  am  not  interested  in  sunrises.  I  will  call  for  you  at 
eleven  then,  with  the  Arabs,  and  drive  you  along  the  Em- 
bankment and  across  the  Islands." 

Faith  thought  Solntsoff  looked  discontented.  "But  I 
am  desperately  interested  in  sunrises,"  she  insisted.  "I 

*  Hors  d'ceuvres. 

t  Team  of  three  horses  harnessed  abreast. 

205 


FAITH  BRANDON 

particularly  wish  to  see  the  sun  coming  through  the  winter 
mists  from  the  Islands.  I  will  skate  before  breakfast  or 
not  at  all!" 

"Very  well,  I  am  game,"  responded  Borya,  "but  don't 
blame  me  if  I  yawn." 

It  was  scarce  dawn  when  at  half-past  nine  the  next  morn- 
ing, after  a  cup  of  tea  in  her  bedroom,  Faith,  booted  and 
furred,  ran  gayly  down  the  broad  marble  stairway,  expecting 
to  see  the  slim,  dark,  boyish  figure  of  Borya  Kliazemski 
in  his  picturesque  skating  costume,  waiting  for  her  in  the 
entrance  hall.  She  saw  a  picturesque  skating  costume, 
indeed,  but  the  figure  it  adorned  was  suspiciously  large, 
stately  and  blond.  She  gave  a  little  scream  of  delighted 
surprise,  dancing  round  him  in  admiration. 

"Lyova!"  she  exclaimed.  "You  are  too  handsome  for 
words!" 

His  blue  eyes  laughed  with  pleasure,  but  he  smiled 
deprecatingly,  twisting  his  moustache  with  feigned  in- 
difference. She  might  well  admire  him,  for  nothing  could 
be  more  becoming  to  the  big,  strong,  fair  man  than  the  blue, 
fur-trimmed,  snug-fitting  pelisse,  belted  at  the  waist,  the  full 
trousers  thrust  into  high  boots,  the  tall  fur  cap  jauntily 
perched  on  his  sunny,  waving  hair.  She  did  not  realize, 
however,  that  this  was  the  first  time  in  all  their  acquaintance 
that  she  had  ever  paid  him  a  compliment  on  his  personal 
appearance . 

"He  looks  as  pleased  as  Punch,"  she  thought.  "For  all 
he  is  so  fine  a  man,  he  is  just  as  vain  as  anybody  else!" 

"It  is  lucky,"  she  remarked,  "that  you  did  not  wear  this 
costume  when  I  first  saw  you,  or  I  should  have  gone  down 
on  my  knees  to  you  then  and  there.  You  were  quite  stun- 
ning enough,  as  it  was,  in  your  tweeds." 

He  threw  his  head  back  and  laughed  delightedly.  Then 
he  tucked  her  hand  under  his  arm  and  started  for  the  gate 
where  the  troika  was  waiting. 

206 


HIS  LIFE'S  RELATIONS 

"But  Boris  Borissovich? "  she  inquired.  "We  must  wait 
for  him." 

"I  bought  him  off,"  he  announced,  with  satisfaction. 
"I  have  given  him  tickets  for  the  ballet.  He  sends  his 
apologies,  —  he  couldn't  help  himself!  If  you  are  to  hang 
round  anybody's  neck,  it  might  as  well  be  mine. "  He  put 
her  into  the  sleigh,  wrapping  the  shouba*  and  bashlikf  about 
her;  slipped  into  his  own  furs  which  the  groom  held  for  him, 
then  took  the  seat  beside  her. 

"These  are  the  famous  Kliazemski  Arabs,"  he  said,  as 
she  looked  enthusiastically  at  the  three  perfectly-matched 
black  steeds,  yoked  abreast.  "My  uncle  was  a  great  lover 
of  horses  in  his  day,  but  gave  over  his  stud  to  Borya's  father, 
Prince  Boris  Aleksandrovich,  who  has  kept  up  the  same  high 
standard.  St.  Petersburg  is  famed  for  its  fine  horses,  but  I 
doubt  if  there  are  any  finer  than  these  for  all  points  com- 
bined, beauty,  speed,  endurance,  temper.  The  off-horse  is 
so  gentle  and  dainty  you  could  bring  him  into  the  drawing- 
room.  Per  contra,  we  call  him  'loann  Grozny,'  —  Ivan  the 
Terrible.  We  will  not  try  their  speed  now,  however,  for  you 
will  wish  to  see  the  sunrise  effect." 

They  drove  across  the  Trinity  bridge  at  a  slow  trot, 
pausing  from  time  to  time  to  watch  the  pink-tipped  clouds 
above  the  low-lying,  gray  mists.  Under  them  was  the  frozen 
Nyeva,  behind  them  the  stately  facades  of  St.  Petersburg's 
numberless  palaces  on  the  river  embankments,  before  them 
the  long  chain  of  low,  rocky,  well- wooded  islands  stretching 
toward  the  Gulf  of  Finland,  now  enshrouded  in  mist. 
Faith  was  so  fascinated  with  the  view  that  he  drove  her 
through  the  Islands  and  across  the  river  branches  of  the 
Delta  for  an  hour  or  more.  Then  they  stepped  out  of  the 
sleigh  and  put  on  their  skates.  Giving  her  a  few  directions, 
he  locked  his  strong  arm  about  hers  in  a  way  that  seemed  to 

*  Fur  cloak. 

t  Embroidered  cowl-shaped  hood  with  long  stole  ends. 

207 


FAITH  BRANDON 

lift  her  weight  from  her  feet,  and  to  give  her  a  feeling  of 
lightness  and  security.  Losing  every  vestige  of  awkward- 
ness or  fear,  she  soon  fell  into  the  delightful,  swinging 
motion,  every  nerve  tingling  with  the  joy  of  life  and  move- 
ment. 

" I  have  only  one  fault  to  find,"  declared  Solntsoff.  "You 
are  learning  too  quickly!  When  are  you  going  to  hang  round 
my  neck?" 

"And  you  are  altogether  too  good  a  teacher,"  she  cried. 
"It  makes  me  suspicious." 

"Oh!"  he  laughed,  "I  have  taught  many  a  girl  to  skate 
and  many  a  girl  to  dance!  And  some  of  them  were  very  nice 
girls,  indeed!  Do  not  begin  by  being  jealous  of  my  past, 
Little  Comrade!" 

"Never  fear!"  she  replied.  "I  shall  not  ask  you  any 
questions  about  it." 

"Fear!"  he  echoed,  contemptuously.  "Why  should  I 
fear?  But  you  are  right,  Vyera.  Never  question  a  man! 
If  there  has  been  aught  of  sorrow  or  shame  in  his  life  he  will 
tell  it  all,  voluntarily,  to  the  woman  he  loves.  If  he  tells 
you  nothing,  it  is  either  because  his  experiences  have  been 
slight  and  perfectly  legitimate  in  character,  or  else  he  is  of 
so  false  and  insincere  a  nature  that  he  would  lie  to  you  if 
you  questioned  him.  You  would  gain  nothing  by  question- 
ing the  latter  man,  you  would  lose  much  by  seeming  to 
doubt  the  former." 

"And  you  are  the  former,"  she  said,  confidently  and 
happily. 

"Are  you  satisfied  with  your  betrothed?"  he  asked, 
tenderly,  glancing  down  sideways  at  her  from  under  his 
long  lashes. 

She  squeezed  his  arm.  Really,  she  could  not  speak.  This 
big,  splendid  specimen  of  humanity,  strong  morally,  mentally 
and  physically,  was  all  her  own!  In  a  few  short  months 
he  would  be  her  husband.  God  had  been  good  to  her!  She 

208 


HIS  LIFE'S  RELATIONS 

was  a  mere  child,  on  the  threshold  of  life,  and  her  future  was 
already  so  blessedly,  happily  settled.  Satisfied? 

At  a  little  distance  from  them  skated  another  picturesque 
figure.  He  was  dashingly  but  tastefully  dressed  in  black 
tunic  and  trousers  and  sable  furs  with  a  touch  of  yellow  in 
cap,  sash  and  revers,  most  becoming  to  his  dark,  manly 
beauty.  Catching  sight  of  Solntsoff  and  his  companion 
he  looked  puzzled. 

The  young  lady  with  Lyeff  Petrovich  wore  a  gray  and 
crimson  skating  costume  with  chinchilla  furs,  which  he 
seemed  to  recognize  as  belonging  to  Countess  Chernyatina. 
But  the  figure  was  not  that  of  Natalia  Petrovna  and,  though 
Lyova  was  the  best  of  brothers,  his  manner  toward  his 
companion,  especially  at  this  moment,  was  hardly  that  of  a 
brother.  An  amused  smile  lighted  up  the  dark-fringed 
eyes  of  the  observer. 

"Our  friend  Lyova  is  beginning  to  flirt  in  his  old  age! 
We  must  see!"  He  skated  rapidly  out,  describing  a  long, 
sweeping  curve  which  brought  him  within  a  few  rods  of  the 
couple.  As  he  swept  up  toward  them  he  flashed  out  a  keen 
glance,  instantly  withdrawn. 

"My  God!"  he  exclaimed  under  his  breath.  "It  is  the 
little  Backfisch!" 

Youri  Andrevich's  communications  with  his  Maker  were 
largely  of  an  exclamatory  nature.  He  obeyed  literally 
the  counsel  of  the  prophet  to  call  upon  his  Creator,  and  did 
so  frequently,  fervently,  forcefully,  but  alas!  not  always 
in  prayer. 

Faith  had  recognized  him.  "It  is  Graf  von  Dovsprung," 
she  cried. 

Solntsoff  slowed  up  and  waved  a  greeting  to  Youri  Andre- 
vich,  who  at  once  whirled  around  and  joined  them,  bowing 
low  over  Faith's  hand  and  embracing  Solntsoff  cordially. 

"So,  your  visit  has  materialized,"  he  said.  "What  we 
saw  in  a  vision  we  now  see  face  to  face.  I  have  been  absent 

209 


FAITH  BRANDON 

from  the  city  of  Pyotr  Veliky*  for  five  months,  on  detail 
at  Tiflis.  I  arrived  last  night  from  summer  heat,  and  could 
hardly  wait  for  morning  to  put  on  my  skates,  so  have  paid 
no  visits,  consequently  have  heard  no  gossip,  and  am  duly 
surprised  at  your  apparition.  Is  it  in  order  to  ask  if  your 
visit  is  beginning,  waxing  or  waning?  " 

"I  have  been  here  ten  days  and  have  twenty  more  before 
me,"  replied  Faith,  joyously,  as  the  three  skated  slowly  along 
together,  each  man  offering  her  an  arm.  "Please  do  not 
criticize  my  methods  of  advancing  on  the  ice,  dear  Graf! 
I  am  not  to  the  manner  born,  like  you  Russians.  I  am  trying 
to  acquire  the  skating  habit  but,  so  far,  have  developed  only 
unfavorable  symptoms." 

"How  about  the  dancing  habit?"  he  asked.  "That,  I 
remember,  had  taken  to  perfection.  Shall  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  you  at  the  Galicheffs'  to-night?  Lyova,  don't  be 
a  miser,  —  spare  me  amazourka!" 

"  Oh,  but  I  am  not  going  to  balls,"  explained  Faith,  eagerly. 
"We  dance  a  little  every  evening  at  home,  when  the  young 
Kliazemskis  and  Shumaroffs  and  their  friends  drop  in,  but 
I  am  just  making  a  family  visit.  I  am  not  out  yet,  you  know. 
I  am  still  only  'Backfischly,' "  laughing  archly  up  at  him. 

"It  does  not  seem  like  seeing  Peterburg,  it  you  omit 
balls,"  said  Dovsprung,  with  decision.  He  looked  her  over 
critically.  "You  have  put  your  hair  up,  consequently  your 
dresses,  when  not  skating,  are  long.  No,  you  are  'Back- 
fischly'  no  more!  Your  not  attending  balls  is  an  anachron- 
ism. But  then,  I  am  not  so  sober  in  my  tastes  as  you.  I 
am  light-minded  and  frivolous.  My  ambition  in  life  is  to 
imitate  the  career  of  our  stately  Grand  Marshal  of  the  Court, 
Serene  Highness  D  — ,  and  still  be  leading  the  mazourka 
with  the  Imperial  debutantes  in  my  sixty-fourth  year." 

"  But  there  is  so  much  for  me  to  do  in  your  wonderful  city," 
persisted  Faith.  "There  is  no  time  for  social  life.  I  am 

*  Peter  the  Great. 

210 


busy  from  morning  till  night,  and  am  happy  every  mo- 
ment." 

"Naturally!"  he  said,dryly,  and  glancing  over  at  Solntsoff 
gave  a  sigh.  "  I  shall  have  to  become  sober-minded  in  self- 
defense,  for  the  serious,  steady  chaps  are  cutting  in  and  taking 
off  all  the  priz<;s.  Lyova,  may  I  ask  if  I  am  still  on  Natalia 
Petrovna's  good  books?" 

"Undoubtedly,"  said  Solntsoff .  "Drop  in  to  tea,  after- 
noon or  evening,  Sunday,  Wednesday,  or  Friday.  Other 
days  we  are  apt  to  be  at  salons  where  you  also  are  intimate." 

"I  shall  hope  for  the  pleasure."  Dovsprung  soon  took 
leave  of  the  couple,  not  wishing  to  be  an  unwelcome  third. 
As  he  skated  off  he  muttered  to  himself. 

"He  is  holding  too  tight  a  rein!  No  balls,  and  apparently 
no  opera  or  theatre,  only  quiet  family  evenings,  and  she  — 
seventeen,  with  all  the  fever  of  dancing  and  music  and 
romance  hi  her  young  blood.  She  hasn't  those  big,  lustrous 
eyes  for  nothing,  in  spite  of  their  shining  innocence.  Better 
let  her  have  her  fling  now,  while  she  is  young  and  unso- 
phisticated, or  she  will  take  it  after  marriage.  Still,"  he 
reflected,  cynically,  "it  makes  the  world  all  the  more  agree- 
able for  some  of  us  bachelors  that  husbands  are,  occasionally, 
a  little  short-sighted." 


211 


CHAPTER  XV 

VISITORS 

"Women  do  not  learn  from  word  of  advice  or  command,  but  only 
from  experience.  The  man  who  shuts  his  eyes  to  this  will  be  deceiv- 
ed by  them.  Therefore,  believe  me,  if  you  wish  to  have  control 
over  your  wife,  give  her  full  liberty,  and  —  keep  your  eyes  open !" 

— Prince  Vladimir  Mestcherski. 

SOLNTSOFF  was  very  thoughtful  on  the  homeward  drive. 
At  last  he  said  with  decision,  "After  all,  Vyera,  you  ought 
to  have  a  glimpse  of  society  life  and  court  balls.  You  will 
assume  the  duties  of  matrimony  so  young,  poor  child,  and 
I  shall  have  neither  the  time  nor  the  inclination  to  go  with 
you  into  society.  Make  the  most  of  your  present  chance. 
Natasha  and  my  cousins  can  take  you  everywhere. " 

"My  wardrobe  will  settle  that  question,"  said  Faith,  with 
equal  decision.  "Even  if  I  cared  for  balls,  I  have,  like 
Miss  MacFlimsey  in  the  American  classic,  nothing  to  wear. 
Besides,  why  should  I  run  the  risk  of  acquiring  a  taste  for 
high  life  if  I  am  to  become  a  plebeian  Mrs.  Pierson,  Gas- 
pazhd  Petrtiva?" 

"What  are  you  thinking  of?"  he  exclaimed.  "I  am  not 
going  to  drop  my  name  and  title!  You  will  be  Knegmia* 
Sohitsova,  with  the  same  social  position  as  any  member  of 
my  family. " 

"Oh,  I  misunderstood  you,"  said  Faith,  slowly;  and  it 
must  be  added,  not  regretfully. 

"My  words  were  that  my  title  would  be  a  drawback  to 
me  in  professional  life.  That  is  true;  but  I  shall  live  it 
down  and  make  my  fellow  publicists  realize  that  I  am  going 

*  Knyaginia,  i.  e.,  princess,  wife  of  a  prince.  The  daughter  of  a  prince 
is  Knyazhnd. 

212 


VISITORS 

to  work  seriously  and  not  as  a  mere  dilettante.  Russian 
princes  have  never  been  afraid  of  work  from  Pyotr  Veliky, 
who  labored  as  a  common  carpenter,  to  Knyaz  Hilkoff  of 
to-day,  who  worked  in  a  foundry  and  as  fireman  on  a  rail- 
road to  learn  to  build  up  Imperial  industries. " 

"Or,"  added  Faith,  proudly,  "a certain  Knyaz  Solntsoff, 
who  works  six  hours  every  night  as  a  common  printer  in  a 
newspaper  office,  to  learn  journalism  from  the  foundation, 
and  to  understand  the  needs  of  those  who  will  work  under 
hirn  in  future. " 

"I  am  not  the  first  Russian  knyaz  to  go  into  journalism," 
he  replied,  "  though  not  all  have  begun  so  low  down  on  the 
scale. " 

"But  you  work  by  day  as  well,"  she  complained,  "and 
that  is  too  much!" 

"Oh,  this  research  work  that  I  am  doing  with  Grand  Duke 
Bogdan  in  the  Imperial  Archives  is  mere  recreation.  It 
is  a  temporary  occupation  that  I  have  taken  up  at  his 
request.  It  is  fascinating  work,  and  a  splendid  preparation 
for  me  as  a  study  in  Russian  statecraft  and  the  historic 
development  of  the  Empire. " 

"A  scholar  and  companion  of  princes  by  day,  a  job  printer 
by  night!" 

"No  wonder  Youri  Andrevich  thinks  me  too  sober  for 
you!  Come,  Vyera,  let  us  drop  serious  subjects.  How 
would  you  like  to  race?" 

Faith  glanced  around.  On  the  magnificent  driveways 
along  the  Nyeva  the  golden  youth  of  St.  Petersburg  were 
speeding  their  horses,  usually  harnessed  three  abreast.  The 
splendid  horses,  the  gay  trappings,  the  handsome  uniforms 
and  liveries  and  rich  furs,  the  crisp  air  tingling  with  snow, 
the  short  winter  sunlight  struggling  red  through  a  gray  sky, 
miles  of  superb  palaces  and  public  buildings  fronting  the 
quays,  the  ice  fields,  stretching  toward  the  distant  haze 
of  the  Finland  Gulf,  dotted  with  skaters  and  sledges,  all 

213 


FAITH  BRANDON 

combined  to  make  a  rarely  exhilarating  scene.  The  three 
black  Arabs  were  trembling  with  excitement,  quivering  to 
dash  into  the  rapid  current  of  the  pace  about  them. 

Faith's  eyes  sparkled.  "I  like  fast  trotting,"  she  said, 
"but  your  Russian  horses  all  look  as  if  they  were  running 
away." 

"Do  not  be  alarmed,  they  are  perfectly  under  control," 
laughed  her  lover.  "Let  me  give  you  a  taste  of  our  Russian 
driving."  He  pulled  up  the  horses  and  looked  around  for 
a  friend  to  challenge. 

Close  behind  them  was  a  troika  of  splendid  grays,  driven 
by  a  man  about  fifty  years  of  age,  a  fine-featured,  fair- 
bearded  man.  A  plump,  dimpled,  brown-eyed  girl  of  six- 
teen years  sat  by  his  side.  He  waved  his  hand  to  Solntsoff , 
who  saluted  both  with  deep  respect. 

"In  good  time,  my  dear  Prince,"  said  the  elder  man  gen- 
ially, in  French.  "We  are  looking  for  a  friend  to  challenge. 
My  grays  are  quite  worthy  of  your  Arabs,  I  assure  you, 
and  the  road  is  free  for  a  mile  ahead  of  us.  Is  it  as  agree- 
able to  your  betrothed  as  to  my  daughter?" 

"May  I  present  Miss  Brandon,  Vyera  Karlovna,"  said 
Solntsoff,  adding  aside  to  Faith,  "Grand  Duke*  Bogdan, 
Grand  Duchess  Vyera,"  while  Faith  bowed,  wondering  at 
the  easy  familiarity  of  the  introduction. 

"The  young  ladies  are  namesakes  and  will,  I  hope,  become 
friends,"  said  the  grand  duke,  genially.  Then  in  Russian, 
"Now,  Lyeff  Petrovich,  do  your  best,  little  Brother!  A  fair 
field  and  no  favors,  and  may  heaven  help  the  best  horse!" 

The  two  sledges  were  now  abreast.  Both  men  leaned 
forward  and  signaled  to  the  impatient  horses,  who  broke 
into  what  appeared  to  Faith  the  maddest  of  mad  runaways. 
The  sledges  looked  so  low  and  small,  the  horses  loomed  up  so 
large  in  front  of  them,  took  such  wild  leaps  and  were  so  un- 
trammeled  with  harness  that  a  catastrophe  seemed  inev- 

*The  Russian  title  is  Vdiky-Knydz,  literally  Grand  Prince. 

214 


VISITORS 

itable.  But  she  saw  her  lover's  laughing,  confident  face,  his 
easy  handling  of  the  lines  and  his  skilful  guidance  of  the 
madcap  animals,  she  heard  the  steady  voices  of  the  two  men 
gaily  chaffing  each  other  from  sledge  to  sledge,  and  soon  she 
lost  her  fears  and  entered  recklessly  into  the  spirit  of  the 
race.  For  a  while  they  were  neck  and  neck,  with  the  odds 
in  favor  of  the  grays;  but  as  they  drew  to  the  end  of  the  mile 
stretch  the  wonderful  endurance  of  the  Arabs  began  to  tell. 
They  were  as  fresh  as  when  they  had  started  and  a  new 
burst  of  speed  brought  them  to  the  front,  while  the  heavier 
grays,  though  they  had  not  slackened  their  pace  were  in- 
capable of  increasing  it,  the  Arabs  winning  by  a  generous 
length. 

Grand  Duchess  Vyera  looked  disappointed  for  a  moment, 
but  when  her  father  congratulated  Solntsoff  on  his  victory, 
her  face  cleared,  she  smiled,  dimpled  prettily,  and  clapped 
her  hands. 
,     "How  is  little  Uncle?"*  she  asked. 

"He  is  pining  for  a  sight  of  you,  Vyera  Bogdanova, " 
replied  Solntsoff.  "He  cannot  get  to  see  your  Imperial 
Highness,  so  you  must  have  pity  and  come  to  see  him." 

"I  will  come  after  dinner  this  evening,  without  ceremony, 
if  your  bride  will  be  at  home,"  said  the  pleasant-faced  girl. 

Faith  bowed  shyly  as  Solntsoff  replied  that  all  the  family 
would  be  at  home  to  receive  her. 

"'Do  swiddniya,'  and  better  luck  next  time!"  the  little 
grand  duchess  called  back,  as  her  father  turned  his  horses 
away  from  the  city  and  out  toward  the  river  road. 

"Will  she  really  come,  and  how  must  I  receive  her?" 
asked  Faith,  eagerly. 

"When  any  members  of  the  Imperial  family  call  in  that 
way,  without  ceremony,  it  is  good  form  not  to  pay  any 
special  deference  to  their  rank.  They  wish  to  be  received 
like  other  callers  and  their  wish  is  respected.  Grand  Duke 

*  The  diminutive  form  is  generally  used  in  polite  conversation  in 
Russian. 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Bogdan  is  my  chief  in  the  Imperial  Archives,  and  I  am  his 
attache  and  master-of-the-palace.  He  is  a  very  scholarly 
and  agreeable  man.  His  father  and  my  uncle  were  ultimate 
friends  in  their  youth.  He  drops  in  on  us  half  a  dozen  times 
a  year  and  probably  will  again  to-night. " 

After  dinner  that  evening  the  family  gathered  as  usual 
in  the  big  drawing-room.  The  Alyonkins  and  Shumaroffs 
were  there  in  force,  and  the  young  Kliazemskis  appeared 
in  full  dress,  expecting  to  go  later  to  the  Galicheff  ball. 
Faith  went  with  the  young  people  to  a  distant  corner  of  the 
vast  room,  where  they  engaged  in  a  merry  round-game  of 
cards,  while  the  older  people  had  clustered  about  the  tea 
table,  where  sat  the  old  prince,  with  Natalia  Petrovna 
presiding  over  the  samovar.  Suddenly  the  door  opened. 
" Veliky-Knyaz  Bogdan!  Velikaya-Kneshna  Vyera!  Veliky- 
Knyaz  Vsevolod!  Grafinia  Tyomenskaya!"  announced  the 
big  footman. 

Very  informal  indeed  was  the  reception  given  the  Imperial 
party.  They  were  greeted,  Faith  noticed,  exactly  as  other 
visitors  who  dropped  in  uninvited,  with  great  cordiality 
but  entire  absence  of  ceremony.  The  two  grand  dukes, 
father  and  son,  went  up  to  the  tea  table,  shook  hands  with 
the  old  prince,  and  kissed  Natalia  Petrovna's  hand.  Then 
Grand  Duke  Bogdan,  turning  to  Lyeff  Petrovich,  embraced 
him  warmly,  kissing  him  on  both  cheeks  after  the  hearty 
Russian  fashion. 

"You  were  slow  but  sure,  Brother!"  he  said,  with  his 
hands  on  the  other's  shoulders  and  smiling  genially.  "There 
was  some  talk  about  dying  a  bachelor,  but  you  are  living  to 
get  married  after  all.  That  is  the  best  way  to  go  about  it, 
my  friend  —  the  right  one  or  none,  slow  but  sure!" 

"And  I  am  very  sure, "  said  Solntsoff,  proudly  and  happily, 
holding  his  head  very  straight  and  high. 

"Look  at  him,  how  proud  he  is!"  laughed  the  grand  duke. 

"I  am  proud  indeed!"  said  the  prince,  sturdily. 

216 


VISITORS 

Faith  heard  them,  and  it  gave  her  a  strange  feeling.  Lyova 
proud  because  of  her,  so  proud,  so  sure,  so  happy,  because 
he  had  won  her!  And  they  were  all  good-naturedly  chaffing 
him  and  wishing  him  every  blessing  and  joy.  How  very 
small  and  unworthy  it  made  her  feel,  yet  it  gave  her  added 
dignity  and  purpose.  He  should  not  be  mistaken  in  her! 
He  might  overestimate  her  gifts  —  she  could  not  help  that, 
but  her  character  was  her  own  to  make  or  mar,  and  by  his 
standards  for  her  she  would  strive  to  live  and  act. 

Grand  Duchess  Vyera  came  up  to  her.  "Are  you  not 
going  to  the  Galicheff  ball?  "  she  asked  in  English. 

"No,  I  have  not  begun  to  go  to  balls  yet.  I  am  only 
lately  in  my  first  long  dresses,"  laughed  Faith. 

"I  also  am  not  'out'  yet,"  said  Vyera  Bogdanova,  sitting 
down  and  motioning  to  Faith  to  do  the  same.  "But  you 
are  betrothed,  one  is  always  '  out '  when  one  is  betrothed.  I 
brought  my  brother  to-night.  He  is  mad  about  Shakespeare, 
and  Lyeff  Petrovich  has  told  him  that  you  read  all  Shake- 
speare's plays  before  you  were  twelve  years  old.  He  is  very 
much  afraid  of  you." 

"He  cannot  be  more  afraid  of  me  than  I  am  of  him," 
thought  Faith.  "What  on  earth  does  one  say  to  grand 
dukes?" 

The  young  man  was  tall,  slender,  well-featured,  with  large 
brown  eyes;  but  Faith  thought  he  looked  pale,  a  little  bored 
and  rather  solemn.  However  his  manners  were  charming, 
and  he  relieved  her  of  all  anxiety  about  what  to  say  by  mak- 
ing the  opening  remark  himself. 

"Shall  I  see  you  this  evening  at  the  Galicheffs', "  he  asked, 
"and  may  I  have  the  pleasure  of  the  second  waltz?" 

"Well,  well!"  thought  Faith,  "history  is  certainly  re- 
peating itself.  My  Aunts  Ludlow  in  their  day  danced  with 
archdukes  and  crown  princes,  and  now  it  is  my  turn!  How 
I  wish  I  were  really  out  and  could  go  to  balls!"  It  was 
humiliating  to  have  to  refuse  and  explain  lamely  that  she 

217 


FAITH  BRANDON 

was  making  only  a  family  visit,  and  that  balls  were  not  on 
her  program. 

"You  have  other  things  to  interest  you,"  began  the  young 
man,  politely. 

"She  isn't  'out'  yet.  This  is  her  first  long  gown,"  in- 
terrupted Vyera  Bogdanova,  mischievously. 

"That  is  a  profoundly  interesting  thing,"  observed  her 
brother,  and  a  slight  smile  relieved  the  solemnity  of  his  aspect, 
"if,  indeed,  it  can  be  as  momentous  an  occasion  to  a  girl  to 
have  her  garments  lengthened  as  to  a  boy.  No  personage 
on  earth  could  really  be  as  important  as  I  felt  in  my  first 
long  trousers. " 

"Besides  that,  she  is  betrothed,  which  is  truly  important, " 
said  his  sister,  flippantly. 

"Ah!  There  the  possibility  of  any  similarity  ceases,  for 
when  a  man  becomes  betrothed  no  one  on  earth  is  ever  quite 
so  unimportant  as  he  is  made  to  feel  himself. " 

"But  Lyeff  Petrovich  just  said  that  he  was  proud," 
retorted  the  sister. 

"He  was  bluffing,"  said  Vsevolod  Bogdanovich, 
coolly.  "He  may  be  proud  of  his  betrothed,  but  he 
knows  very  well  that  she  is  the  whole  thing  and  he  is 
not  in  it." 

Faith  was  amused  to  hear  so  much  of  the  then  current 
American  slang  from  the  grave-faced  young  man  who,  for 
the  rest,  spoke  English  with  hardly  a  trace  of  foreign 
accent. 

"It  sounds  strange  to  hear  Americanisms  in  St.  Peters- 
burg," she  observed. 

"I  learned  them  in  Paris,"  he  replied,  with  a  very  agree- 
able smile  which  lent  his  countenance  much  charm.  "There 
they  are  the  rage.  We  all  bluff,  we  all  flirt,  we  all  boston. " 

"Boston?"  she  asked,  puzzled.  "I  do  not  know  what 
that  is.  I  hope  it  is  nothing  very  bad,  for  Boston  is  my  native 
city." 

218      - 


VISITORS 

At  this  moment  the  drawing-room  door  again  opened  and 
the  big  footman  announced,  "Polkovnik*  Graf  von  Dov- 
sprung-Zaozerski!"  f 

Faith  looked  up  eagerly.  Youri  Andrevich  was  a  truly 
splendid  apparition  in  white  and  scarlet  uniform,  sable  furs, 
and  glittering  orders.  She  had  thought  him  handsome 
in  civilian  dress,  but  now  he  seemed  like  some  resplendent 
figure  from  realms  of  chivalry.  No  wonder  he  was 
called  St.  George,  the  divine  warrior,  the  Irresistible,  the 
Victorious! 

The  little  grand  duchess  also  glanced  up.  A  dreamy 
look  came  into  her  brown  eyes.  Her  dimpled  face  grew 
pensive.  He  was  farther  away  from  her  than  was  King 
Cophetua  from  the  beggar  maid,  for  the  King  could  make 
the  peasant  girl  his  queen;  but  a  grand  duchess  may  not 
marry  a  colonel  of  her  cousin's  staff! 

After  he  had  greeted  his  host  and  hostess  and  their  circle, 
and  remained  a  few  moments  in  conversation  with  them, 
Dovsprung  started  toward  the  group  of  young  people. 

"Youri  Andrevich,  for  pity's  sake!"  called  Grand  Duke 
Vsevolod  to  him,  in  Russian.  "Have  I  made  a  blunder? 
Miss  Brandon  does  not  understand  'boston'!" 

"How  is  that?  You  do  not  boston?"  asked  Dovsprung, 
gayly,  in  French. 

Faith  looked  blank  and  bewildered. 

"It  is  not  beyond  remedy.  Let  us  teach  her!"  he  sug- 
gested to  the  young  man.  Vsevolod  Bogdanovich  responded 
eagerly. 

"Yes,  indeed!  It  will  not  be  carrying  coals  to  Newcastle 
to  teach  a  Boston  lady  to  boston.  Let  us  adjourn  to  the 
ballroom. " 

"Then  it  isn't  a  game  of  cards?"  said  Faith,  as  they  passed 
through  a  suite  of  reception-rooms  into  the  ballroom  where 


*ColoneI. 

t  Pronounced  Zah-ahz-y6r-skee. 


219 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Borya  Kliazemski,  who  had  followed  with  Grand  Duchess 
Vyera,  turned  on  the  electric  lights  and  threw  open  the 
piano. 

Grand  Duke  Vsevolod  sat  down  at  the  piano  and  began 
to  play  a  waltz  with  considerable  grace  and  spirit.  "We 
will  take  turns,"  he  nodded  to  Dovsprung.  "You  first, 
my  Colonel!  It  was  your  suggestion. " 

And  once  more  Faith  found  herself  floating  off  into  a 
dance  on  the  arm  of  Youri  Andrevich,  a  quicker,  livelier 
step  than  the  former  graceful  glide  she  remembered  so  well, 
but  she  soon  caught  the  motion.  Borya  danced  with  the 
little  grand  duchess  for  a  while,  then  he  went  to  the 
piano  and  they  changed  partners,  Grand  Duke  Vsevolod 
dancing  with  Faith,  and  Dovsprung  with  the  pensive,  blush- 
ing Grand  Duchess  Vyera. 

Attracted  by  the  sound  of  the  music  the  other  guests, 
with  their  hosts,  flocked  to  the  ballroom,  some  to  join  in  the 
dancing,  some  to  look  on  at  the  pretty  scene.  Faith  danced 
with  Boris  Borissovich,  then  with  Volodia*  Shumaroff,  then 
again  with  the  grand  duke.  This  time  the  latter  discovered 
that  she  did  not  know  the  mazurka  or  understand  the  figures 
of  the  franf aise. 

"We  must  have  other  instructive  evenings,"  he  said. 
"But  I  cannot  come  here  again  for  some  time.  It  is  a 
stupid  thing,  but  people  would  see  something  political  in 
it. "  They  sat  down  for  a  while  to  rest. 

*' Would  you  not  find  it  a  bore,"  he  asked,  "never  to  be 
able  to  do  what  you  like  without  creating  a  commotion? 
There  are  two  things  in  life  which  I  especially  enjoy.  One 
is  a  pleasant,  informal  evening  among  friends,  the  other  is — 
the  theatre.  But  if  I  visit  my  friends  or  have  them  visit 
me  more  than  twice  a  season,  immediately  the  whisper  goes 
round  that  some  political  intrigue  is  on  foot.  If  I  enjoy 
a  fine  play  and  go  to  see  it  a  second  time,  immediately  the 

*Diminutive  of  Vladimir. 

220 


VISITORS 

world  will  have  it  that  I  am  in  love  with  the  leading  lady. 
If  I  should  dare  witness  the  play  a  third  time,  though  I 
never  stirred  from  the  box,  the  foreign  press  would  be 
ringing  with  'the  latest  scandal  among  the  grand  dukes'! 
What  should  one  do?  Be  conscientious  and  live  a  life  of 
boredom,  or,  like  my  cousin  Fedia,*  kick  over  the  traces, 
saying  that  one  may  as  well  have  the  game  as  the  name? 
That  is  the  question!" 

Faith  looked  at  the  pale,  handsome  face  in  some  wonder- 
ment. She  did  not  reply  at  once.  She  was  unused  to  the 
confidences  of  nineteen-year-old  lads,  except  the  cousinly 
complaints  of  Brandy  Ludlow.  After  a  moment  he  glanced 
at  her  with  one  of  his  rare,  illuminating  smiles. 

"You  are  surprised  that  I  speak  so  much  about  myself  to 
a  new  acquaintance  and  a  foreigner,"  he  said,  "but  I  know 
you  are  sincere  and  true  or  you  would  not  be  the  chosen  of 
Lyeff  Petrovich.  Permit  me  to  tell  you  how  much  I  admire 
him.  He  is  not  only  a  brilliant  man  but  a  very  sincere  and 
disinterested  one.  To  my  sorrow  I  know  that  those  things 
do  not  always  go  together.  Our  family  has  no  truer  friends 
than  our  two  hosts.  I  would  rather  have  a  scolding  from 
Lyeff  Petrovich  than  praise  from  all  the  rest  of  the  court. 
I  should  be  sure  I  merited  the  scolding,  but  far  from  sure 
that  I  had  earned  the  praise. " 

"Does  he  scold?"  asked  Faith.    "You  frighten  me." 

Vsevolod  Bogdanovich  looked  earnestly  at  her.  "Do 
you  not  like  to  be  scolded?  Is  it  not  a  refreshing  tonic?" 
he  inquired.  "Yes,  if  you  deserve  it,  he  will  scold  you  also, 
and  you  will  be  glad  that  you  have  such  a  friend.  Perhaps 
I  should  not  suggest  that  you  could  ever  deserve  it?" 

"Why  should  you  not  suggest  it?"  asked  Faith.  "You 
have  hinted  that  you  do  not  like  flattery.  Would  you,  then, 
be  like  the  rest  of  the  world  and  say  nothing  to  us  young 
girls  but  what  is  flattering?  " 

'Diminutive  of  Fy6dor  (Theodore). 

221 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"I  suppose  so,"  he  replied.  "I  should  wish  to  please  you 
and  have  you  like  me  and  would  say  only  pleasant  things 
to  you.  If  I  were  a  courtier  I  should  be  like  the  majority 
of  courtiers,  I  should  wish  to  please  the  Imperial  family  and 
to  have  them  like  me  and  bestow  favors  on  me,  so  I  would 
take  good  care  to  say  only  agreeable  things  to  them.  It  is 
small  wonder  that  we  never  hear  the  truth,  except  from  that 
rare  animal,  a  disinterested  courtier  like  Lyeff  Petrovich." 

"Not  even  from  your  enemies?  "  suggested  Faith,  smilingly. 

"From  them  least  of  all!  Ninety-nine  times  out  of  a  hun- 
dred they  know  absolutely  no  thing  about  us.  They  have  never 
held  our  hands  or  looked  into  our  eyes,  they  do  not  remotely 
guess  the  workings  of  our  minds  or  our  hearts.  What  they 
have  to  say  about  us  is  usually  so  far  from  the  truth  that  we 
can  learn  little  or  nothing  from  it.  If  they  could  come  into 
closer  touch  with  us  they  would  be  our  friends,  not  our 
enemies.  But  I  have  trespassed  on  your  kindness  long 
enough.  I  thank  you,  Miss  Brandon,  for  your  patience 
and  sympathy,  and  I  will  take  your  counsel  to  heart. " 

Faith  was  scarlet.  "I  am  afraid  you  are  satirical,"  she 
said.  "I  could  not  presume  to  counsel.  I  have  said  nothing, 
for  I  have  no  right  to  speak.  I  am  as  ignorant  of  the 
situation  as  the  worst  of  your  enemies. " 

"You  have  spoken,"  he  said,  pleasantly,  "as  plainly  as  if 
you  had  said  it  in  words.  You  were  thinking  — '  Things 
are  not  so  bad  but  that  they  might  be  worse.  That  young 
man  should  pull  himself  together  and  see  if  he  cannot  turn 
a  circumscribed  position  into  a  large  opportunity.  If  he 
will  ponder  less  on  what  he  cannot  do  and  more  on  what  he 
.can  do,  it  will  be  better  for  him  and  for  Russia.'" 

"How  —  how  did  you  know?"  stammered  Faith. 

"It  must  be  my  guilty  conscience  that  spoke  through 
you,"  he  laughed.  "You  think  I  have  not  much  to  com- 
plain of,  and  you  are  probably  right." 

"Nobody  could  sympathize  with  you  better  than  a  girl," 

222 


VISITORS 

observed  Faith.  "  What  position  could  be  more  circumscribed 
than  ours?  We  are  hemmed  around  with  conventionalities, 
not  permitted  to  follow  any  of  our  natural  tastes  and  impulses, 
and  always  fearful  of  the  breath  of  scandal.  We  have  to 
sit  still  and  let  all  sorts  of  possibilities  pass  by  us,  and  cannot 
hold  out  a  hand  to  one.  But  all  things  are  relative.  Even 
in  democratic  America  one  can  be  limited  by  one's  family 
position.  I  have  a  cousin  who  is  the  son  of  a  bishop,  and 
he  cannot  dance,  or  play  cards,  or  go  to  the  theatre  for  fear 
of  scandalizing  his  father's  flock!  I  have  another  cousin 
whose  grandfather  was  a  distinguished  general  in  our  Civil 
War,  and,  when  he  went  to  the  military  academy,  he  was 
hazed  almost  to  death  for  fear  he  might  presume  on  his 
inherited  distinction." 

"I  think,"  said  the  grand  duke,  slowly,  "that  I  would 
rather  be  hazed  to  death  than  be  bored  to  death. " 

"Nonsense!"  cried  Faith,  sharply.  "You  are  not  bored. 
You  are  only  lazy. " 

Then  she  was  frightened.  It  certainly  did  not  sound  like 
the  correct  thing  to  say,  "Nonsense!"  to  an  Imperial  High- 
ness; and  how  had  she  dared  call  him  lazy  when,  for  all  she 
knew,  he  might  be  the  most  hard-working  young  man  in 
Christendom? 

He  assuredly  looked  startled  for  an  instant.  Then  his 
large  brown  eyes  lighted  up  quite  merrily  and  he  laughed 
most  good-naturedly. 

"I  was  not  mistaken  in  giving  you  credit  for  sincerity," 
he  said,  "if  severity  be  sincerity." 

"I  beg  your  pardon ! "  said  Faith,  humbly.  " I  spoke  hastily, 
without  any  knowledge  of  your  character  or  habits.  I  may 
be  quite  wrong.  I  certainly  was  inexcusably  rude." 

"At  least,"  remarked  the  grand  duke,  "I  have  not  been 
bored." 

"Come,  Vola!  Come  Vyerochka!"  called  Grand  Duke 
Bogdan  to  his  children,  who  excused  themselves  to  their 

223 


FAITH  BRANDON 

partners,  and  bid  a  formal,  courteous  good  night  to  the  family 
of  their  host. 

A  group  about  the  piano  now  begged  for  a  song.  Dov- 
sprung  rose  and  looking  through  some  piles  of  music  laid 
two  or  three  selections  on  the  rack,  while  Natalia  Petrovna, 
an  accomplished  musician,  took  her  seat  at  the  instrument 
and  began  the  accompaniment.  The  pieces  he  had  chosen 
were  romances  by  that  master  of  emotional  song,  Tsesar 
Kyui  to  words  by  Pushkin.  There  was  a  hush.  The 
young  people  seated  themselves  quietly,  almost  reverently 
to  listen.  And  the  songs  were  all  that  Faith  had  hoped 
and  expected  from  the  genius  of  poet  and  composer,  and 
from  the  rich,  vibrant  voice,  the  impassioned  temperament 
and  exquisite  artistry  of  the  manly  singer. 

Such  singing  moved  Faith  deeply,  giving  her  a  joy,  a 
satisfaction  so  perfect  that  it  was  almost  pain.  Yet,  under- 
neath, she  was  conscious  of  a  certain  jealous  loyalty,  angered 
that  so  great  a  gift  belonged  to  this  man,  and  not  to  that 
other  man  to  whom  her  heart's  love  was  consecrated.  "If 
only  Lyova  could  sing!"  she  sighed. 

Now  a  livelier  strain  arose,  Romberg's  spirited  love-song, 
"Ddite  Krylia  mne  perelydtnia,"*  the  swinging  rhythms  of 
the  violin  obbligato  played  with  much  dash  by  Yelena 
Shumarova.  Faith  was  fascinated. 

The  music  ceased.  Dovsprung  left  the  piano  and  slipped 
into  the  vacant  chair  by  Faith's  side. 

"You  are  musical,"  he  said.  "I  could  see  that  by  the 
points  you  most  appreciated  in  the  songs." 

"I  am  musical  only  as  a  listener,"  said  Faith.  "I  have  no 
talent  as  a  performer,  or  at  least,  only  a  very  old-fashioned 
one.  My  aunts  taught  me  to  play  the  harp,  but  I  have  had 
no  instrument  for  two  years. " 

"The  harp!"  echoed  Dovsprung,  softly  and  reminiscently. 
"I  can  just  recall  my  mother  playing  the  harp,  and  my 

*  "Give  wings  to  me  far-flying." 

224 


VISITORS 

standing  by  her  side,  a  ten-year  old  lad  in  our  castle  in  the 
Oukraine,  I  singing  to  her  accompaniments  the  old  war 
songs  of  Little  Russia,  and  my  father,  with  my  little  sister 
upon  his  knee,  and  old  Stepan,  his  steward  and  secretary, 
joining  in  the  choruses.  Will  you  not  resurrect  your  talent 
and  play  for  me?  It  would  revive  such  sacred  memories. " 

"I  will  try!"  promised  Faith,  touched  by  his  sentiment. 
"There  is  a  beautiful  harp  here.  I  have  been  attempting 
to  get  my  fingers  into  shape  the  last  few  days  I  shall 
love  to  hear  the  old  folk-songs. " 

"And  you  will,  I  hope,  also  like  to  hear  opera.  I  have 
Knyaz  Ratmiroff's  loge  for  Thursday  and  have  asked 
Natalia  Petrovna  to  bring  you.  I  am  sorry  there  is  no 
Russian  piece  on,  but  the  most  charming  tenor  of  the  day, 
Anselmi,  is  to  sing  'Faust'." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad!  If  you  will  believe  it,  I  have  never 
seen  that  opera. " 

"Is  it  possible?    I  thought  Taust'  was  inevitable!" 

"It  must  seem  strange,"  explained  Faith.  "I  used  to 
go  to  the  opera  regularly  every  fortnight  in  Germany,  but, 
you  see,  I  was  only  a  'Backfisch'  and  the  Germans  are  very 
particular  what  young  girls  see  and  read.  'Faust'  is  on  our 
Index,  both  the  opera  and  Goethe's  play.  We  read 
almost  everything  else  of  Goethe's,  but  not  'Faust'  or 
'Werther'." 

"May  I  ask,"  inquired  Dovsprung,  with  amused 
curiosity,  "what  operas  your  German  censors  allowed  you 
to  attend?" 

"We  saw  'Lohengrin/  the  'Flying  Dutchman,'  and  the 
'Meistersinger'  of  Wagner's.  Besides  these  we  saw  'William 
Tell,'  'Der  Freischutz,'  'The  White  Lady,'  'Trompeter  von 
Seckingen,'  'Star  of  the  North,'  'Tsar  and  Carpenter,' 
'Orpheus  and  Eurydice,'  'Fidelio,'  'Hansel  and  Gretel,'  and 
— let  me  think  —  oh,  yes  —  'Don  Giovanni'. " 

At  the  mention  of  the  last  opera  Dovsprung,  who  had  been 

225 


FAITH  BRANDON 

listening  with  becoming  gravity,  felt  his  lips  twitch.  What 
a  comical  anticlimax,  the  discreet  procession  topped  off 
with  this  indiscretion,  the  gay  adventures  of  a  libertine! 

"Which  were  your  favorites?"  he  asked,  looking  preter- 
naturally  solemn  to  conceal  a  wild  desire  to  laugh. 

"Oh,  'Lohengrin'  and  'Don  Giovanni'!  'Lohengrin'  is 
such  a  beautiful,  appealing  ideal.  It  is  grander,  more  up- 
lifting, but  'Don  Giovanni'  is  very  fascinating. " 

"The  ladies  usually  find  him  so, "  he  commented.  "They 
think  him  distressingly  wicked  and  would  be  glad,  like 
Elvira,  to  have  an  opportunity  to  try  and  save  his  soul!" 

"I  couldn't  make  out  the  story,"  said  Faith.  "It  was 
very  confused,  and  they  did  not  permit  us  to  have  the 
libretto,  but  the  music  was  lovely. " 

"The  libretto  is  said  to  be  wretchedly  poor  stuff,  quite 
unworthy  of  Mozart's  exquisite  music,"  said  Dovsprung 
aloud,  muttering  under  his  breath,  "Thank  heaven  for  all 
that  you  did  not  know!" 

But,  as  he  wrapped  himself  warmly  in  his  furs  and  drove 
from  the  palace  to  the  Galicheff  ball,  "Faust"  lay  heavy 
on  his  mind.  How  would  it  strike  a  modest,  innocent  young 
girl  to  witness  that  scene  of  seduction  for  the  first  time?  He 
could  recall  through  the  mists  of  years  how,  as  a  stripling 
of  twenty,  it  had  saddened  him  and  made  him  uncom- 
fortable to  see  the  net  spreading  round  the  sweet,  thought- 
less, enamored  young  Gretchen  of  the  opera.  He  had  been 
uncommonly  modest  and  "green"  himself,  in  those  far-off 
days.  He  had  long  since  become  hardened  and  indifferent 
to  the  story,  and  for  many  years  had  thought  only  of  the 
vocal  art  of  the  singers  in  witnessing  the  opera.  But 
would  "Backfishly"  be  sad  and  uncomfortable,  even  as  he 
had  first  been?  Must  her  eyes  be  opened  to  the  shame  and 
anguish  of  the  story  in  his  presence,  and  that  of  a  stranger, 
like  Ratmiroff?  No!  only  a  father,  only  a  husband,  only 
the  tenderest  of  elder  brothers  should  see  the  veil  of  igno- 

226 


VISITORS 

ranee  lifted  from  the  mind  of  innocence,  it  was  unfitting, 
it  was  intolerable  that  the  revelation  should  come  to  her 
in  the  presence  of  men  of  the  world  like  Ratmiroff  and 
himself. 

Like  himself!    He  started  slightly  and  grew  thoughtful. 

There  was  but  one  thing  to  do, —  go  to  Solntsoff  and  leave 
the  question  to  him.  In  the  absence  of  father  or  brother 
who  should  be  her  guardian,  her  protector,  her  guide, — 
who  but  her  future  husband? 


227 


CHAPTER  XVI 

ISOLDE 

""The  world  calls  you  a  wicked  man!' 
"  'What   world?    It   must  be   the   next    world,  for  this 
world  and  I  are  on  excellent  terms!'" 

—  Wilde. 

FROM  this  evening  a  wider  social  circle  was  opened  to  Faith. 
There  were  no  balls  or  court  functions  on  her  list,  for  where- 
withal should  she  provide  herself  the  necessary  toilettes? 
But  there  were  plenty  of  informal  dances,  theatre  parties, 
private  theatricals,  concerts  and  suppers  during  the  evenings, 
where  her  dainty  girlish  wardrobe  would  pass  muster,  while 
the  day  was  made  merry  for  her  with  sledging  parties,  skating, 
riding,  ice-hill  sledding,  luncheons,  musicals  and  other  festivi- 
ties. Besides  these,  much  time  was  devoted  to  sight  seeing, 
visiting  the  marvelous  picture  galleries,  the  superb  palaces, 
churches  and  museums. 

And  everywhere  was  the  atmosphere  of  joyous,  genial, 
sympathetic  life.  Society,  especially  in  the  conservative  cir- 
cles to  which  her  hosts  belonged,  was  informal,  hospitable, 
abounding  in  gayety  and  good  cheer,  the  expression  of  a 
democratic,  warm-hearted,  intelligent  and  highly  accom- 
plished aristocracy,  of  charming  manners  and  genial  dispo- 
sitions. This  society  was  very  kind  to  Faith,  presented  to 
it  as  she  was  through  unexceptionable  channels,  and  it  may 
be  said  that  though  she  did  not  set  the  social  world  on  fire, 
yet  she  had,  in  a  quiet  way,  a  success  that  was  all  her  own. 
The  older  people  were  attracted  by  her  sweet,  modest,  but 
responsive  and  sympathetic  manner,  and  found  her  intelli- 

228 


ISOLDE 

gent  and  interesting  to  talk  with.  The  young  people  liked 
her  frank,  pleasant,  companionable  ways.  Some  of  the 
men,  neither  old  nor  very  young,  felt  in  her  upright,  girlish 
presence  and  in  the  clear  innocence  of  her  lovely,  starlike 
eyes,  a  strange  inclination  to  recall  memories  of  vanished 
dreams  and  early  ideals,  of  a  mother's  prayers,  of  a  confessor's 
counsels,  of  boyhood  visions  of  chivalry  and  faith  and  love. 
Strange  memories  to  steal  over  them  in  the  midst  of  a  dance, 
or  the  whirl  of  ice-hill  sledding,  or  between  the  courses  of  a 
merry  supper  party !  They  could  not  account  for  it.  Few  tried 
to  account  for  it.  At  best,  it  was  an  ephemeral  mood.  She 
was  the  betrothed  of  one  of  their  set,  for  his  sake  they  paid 
her  many  attentions,  and  for  her  own  sake  enjoyed  doing 
so;  but  she  was  not  for  them,  and  so  their  interest  acquired 
no  deep  or  tender  significance,  for  in  their  Russian  eyes, 
betrothal  was  almost  as  sacred  as  marriage. 

There  was  one  of  their  number,  however,  whose  attitude 
toward  Faith's  betrothed  was  one  less  of  loyalty  than  of 
criticism  and  dissatisfaction. 

Youri  Andrevich  was  very  well  pleased  with  himself.  He 
felt  that  he  had  certainly  shown  an  ideal  delicacy  of  feeling 
with  regard  to  the  little  "Backfisch,"  far  more  than  Lyeff 
Petrovich,  who,  prig  and  moralist  though  he  was,  had  seemed 
unable  to  rise  to  the  same  heights  as  himself. 

"He  has  no  knowledge  of  women,"  grumbled  Dovsprung. 
"He  is  a  scribbler  and  a  dreamer.  He  spends  the  greater 
part  of  his  nights  in  a  newspaper  office,  sleeps  half  the  day, 
and  spends  the  other  half  in  dry  research  or  wild  schemes  of 
philanthropy  and  reform.  He  would  not  even  give  up  his 
absurd  printing  to  take  her  to  Taust'  the  other  night, 
merely  thanked  me  in  a  perfunctory  way,  and  suggested 
my  offering  the  loge  to  that  most  domestic  couple,  Alyonkin 
and  his  wife!" 

This  heinous  conduct  on  the  part  of  Lyeff  Petrovich  irri- 
tated him  greatly.  "Will  he  neglect  her  like  this  after  mar- 

229 


FAITH  BRANDON 

riage?  Ah,  Brother!  You  deserve  to  lose  her,  if  you  cannot 
sacrifice  for  her  one  of  your  smug,  respectable  ambitions 
and  occupations.  No  woman  of  spirit  will  stand  it.  Good 
heavens!  He  must  be  a  vainer  man  than  I,  if  he  thinks 
he  can  retain  a  woman's  love  without  some  effort  on  his 
part.  If  I  had  a  wife  like  that  sweet  girl,  I  would  lock  her 
up  like  a  Turk;  or,  if  I  let  her  go  into  the  world,  I  should 
never  stir  from  her  side,  except,  of  course,  just  enough  to 
keep  her  on  tenterhooks  for  fear  of  losing  me!  Matrimony," 
he  continued,  thoughtfully,  "might  be  made  almost  as 
absorbingly  interesting  a  game  as  love,  if  cleverly  played. 
But,"  he  added,  cautiously,  twirling  his  moustache  and  squar- 
ing his  shoulders,  "I  am  not  ready  yet  to  put  on  the  matri- 
monial yoke.  Time  enough  at  forty,  or  even  fifty.  That 
leaves  me  a  good  many  years  more  to  lead  the  mazourka 
with  the  Imperial  debutantes."  A  career,  truly! 

As  he  changed  from  his  skating  costume  to  his  uniform  he 
laughed  somewhat  sheepishly.  "I  feel  like  a  sixteen-year- 
old  schoolboy,"  he  ejaculated.  "All  Peterburg  must  be 
smiling  to  see  the  sophisticated  'Georgiy  Pobyedono  sets' 
skating  half  the  afternoon  with  a  flock  of  nurslings,  and 
staying  away  from  the  most  spicy  farce  of  the  season 
to  take  a  Backfischly  down  an  ice-hill  by  moonlight.  Let 
them  laugh!  If  I  enjoy  it,  whose  affair  is  it?  If  I  choose 
to  amuse  myself  innocently  it  is  only  one  of  my  vagaries, 
a  temporary  aberration!  Who  knows  but,  if  I  go  on  at 
this  rate,  I  shall  turn  monk  some  day?  I  suppose  they  will 
see  something  laughable  even  in  that!" 

It  was  the  first  time  in  his  social  career  that  he  had  ever 
devoted  himself  to  a  young  girl,  and  he  knew  that  it  had 
caused  remark,  but  he  could  tell  himself  on  his  honor  that 
there  had  been  no  sentiment  in  it,  that  he  had  made  no 
attempt  to  win  her  affection  away  from  her  betrothed.  He 
was  merely  the  oldest  of  a  dozen  friends  and  relatives  of 
Solntsoff's  who  were  doing  their  best  to  make  Miss  Brandon's 

230 


ISOLDE 

visit  an  enjoyable  one.  Why  should  people  notice  it  in 
him  more  than  in  Volodia  Shumaroff,  who  was  himself 
betrothed,  or  in  Grand  Duke  Vsevolod,  or  Borya  Kliazemski, 
or  in  Nikita  Ryapoloff  and  Seriozha  Militsyn?  Was  he 
less  honorable  than  these,  or  did  they  fail  to  see  that  the 
child  had  eyes  for  none  but  Solntsoff  himself?  It  was  a 
blind,  spiteful,  stupid  world! 

Dovsprang  was  conscious  of  an  odd  change  in  his  tastes. 
The  ballet  and  theatrical  spheres  frankly  bored  him  of  late, 
the  gossip  of  clubs,  cafes  and  foyers  seemed  inexpressibly  stale, 
wearisome,  even  repulsive.  He  knew  St.  Petersburg  society 
so  well  that  the  thought  of  a  new  flirtation  had  no  piquancy 
for  him.  Would  it  be  different  if  he  were  once  more  installed 
in  a  diplomatic  post  in  some  other  gay  capital?  Or  was  he 
growing  old  at  thirty-four?  To  be  sure,  he  had  lately 
returned  from  several  months  of  exacting  work  in  a  warm, 
debilitating  climate,  where  he  had  had  to  lead  the  life  of  an 
ascetic,  and  perhaps  he  was  temporarily  a  little  under  the 
weather.  He  felt  well,  he  slept  well,  his  appetite  was  up 
to  the  mark,  what  but  overwork  and  climate  could  account 
for  this  strange  indifference  to  his  former  gay  pursuits? 

Day  after  day  his  steps  turned  sooner  or  later  toward  the 
Kliazemski  palace,  and  he  often  met  the  little  Fides  at  other 
houses,  but  his  bearing  was  irreproachable.  He  never 
sought  to  be  alone  with  her.  She  was  learning  to  accom- 
pany him  on  the  harp  as  he  sang  to  her  the  ballads  and 
folk-songs  of  Little  Russia;  but  they  were  always  surrounded 
by  a  congenial  group,  for  the  other  young  men  and  women 
of  their  circle  were  also  teaching  Faith,  instructing  her  to 
play  Russian  airs  on  the  balalaika  and  to  dance  the  court 
dances. 

"Are  you  yourself  from  Little  Russia?"  asked  Faith,  as 
he  finished  one  of  the  exquisite  songs  of  that  country. 

"We  have  lived  in  Little  Russia  for  six  centuries,  though 
the  first  of  our  line  was  old  Dovsprung,  the  pagan  Grand 

231 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Prince  of  Lithuania  in  the  tenth  century.  I  suppose  he  had 
parents,  perhaps  even  grandparents,  but  a  line  of  ascent 
must  begin  somewhere!  His  descendants  fought  in  alli- 
ance with  the  Lithuanian  princes  who  drove  the  Tatars 
out  of  Little  Russia  in  1302.  The  main  branch  of  the 
family  remained  subjects  of  Poland,  where  they  are  called 
'Dovmont,'  and  retain  the  title  of  prince;  but  my  branch 
acquired  estates  just  over  the  Polish  border  and  beyond 
the  lakes,  whence  the  addition  Za-ozer-ski.*  The  counts 
Dovsprung-Zaozerski,  therefore,  have  lived  in  Little  Russia 
nearly  six  hundred  years,  and  are  thoroughly  Russian  in 
everything,  save  religion." 

"Religion?"  echoed  Faith,  adding  laughingly,  "I  trust 
you  are  not  still  pagans,  like  your  princely  forbears." 

"I  am  afraid  there  is  a  good  deal  of  paganism  yet  in  my 
unregenerate  nature,"  he  sighed,  "though  I  am  by  birth  and 
education  a  Christian  and  an  Uniat." 

"An  Uniat?"  inquired  Faith.  "That  sounds  like  a  Uni- 
tarian." 

"God  forbid!  We  would  lay  down  our  lives  for  the  Holy 
Trinity.  It  is  the  Church's  unity  that  we  stand  for.  The 
Slavic  race  was  christianized  by  the  Greek  Church  which, 
at  that  period,  was  in  union  with  Rome.  The  Uniats 
are  so  still.  The  Apostles  to  the  Slavs,  Cyril  and 
Methodius,  are  saints  of  both  the  Roman  and  the  Russian 
calendars." 

"You  mean  that  you  are  Roman  Catholics?"  asked  Faith. 

"We  are,  in  the  sense  that  we  have  never  ceased  to  be  in 
union  with  the  See  of  Peter.  But  we  are  not  of  the  Latin 
rite.  We  are  of  the  Greek  rite,  and  have  the  Old-Slavonic 
liturgy,  exactly  like  the  Orthodox  Russians.  But  I  am  no 
theologian.  Let  us  rather  talk  music." 

"Oh,  no!  Tell  me  more  about  the  Uniat  position.  I  am 
intensely  interested  in  these  questions." 

*Za,  beyond,  dzero,  a  lake. 

232 


ISOLDE 

"You  place  me  in  a  trying  predicament,  Fides,"  said  Dov- 
sprung,  irresolutely.  "I  am  no  monk,  I  am  not  a  fitting 
person  to  discuss  religion,  but  neither  am  I  an  infidel.  Even 
the  devils,  you  know,  believe!  If  I  am  questioned,  I  must 
declare  my  belief.  I  am  an  Uniat  both  by  tradition  and 
by  conviction.  I  am  a  soldier,  I  come  of  a  warrior  race 
and  have  the  soldier  instinct  that  the  Church  Militant 
should  have  a  divinely-appointed  commander-in-chief, 
supreme  in  the  field,  though  representing  a  yet  Higher 
Power.  Such,  both  faith  and  history  tell  me,  is  the  Vicar 
of  Christ  on  earth,  the  Roman  Pontiff.  But  how  can  I 
in  honor  say  more  on  this  point,  when  it  is  the  one  thing, 
were  you  to  accept  it,  which  would  place  an  insurmountable 
barrier  between  you  and  your  betrothed?" 

Faith  turned  a  little  pale  and  looked  startled.  "I  see," 
she  said  after  a  while,  "that  I  must  not  ask  you  any  more 
questions;  and  yet,  I  should  not  hesitate  to  examine  this 
important  point  merely  because  it  might  lead  me  away  from 
Lyeff  Petrovich." 

It  was  Dovsprung's  turn  to  grow  pale  and  look  startled. 
What  did  the  girl  mean?  Was  she  of  such  heroic  mold  that 
Truth  was  more  to  her  than  Love?  Or  was  she  of  earthly 
mold,  like  too  many  he  had  known,  ready  to  sunder  a  bond 
to  which  she  had  perhaps  grown  indifferent?  Did  she  mean 
that  she  would  break  her  earthly  faith  for  the  sake  of  a  higher 
Faith,  or  was  she  giving  him  to  understand  that  she  held  her 
promise  lightly,  ready  to  transfer  it  to  another  who  might 
seek  to  win  it?  Was  she  merely,  like  many  other  women 
he  had  known,  making  of  religion  a  pretext  for  a  certain 
sentimental  intimacy? 

It  seemed  to  him  that  a  breath  of  doubt  dimmed  the 
clear  brightness  of  the  shield  of  innocence  and  loyalty  in 
which  he  had  hitherto  seen  reflected  the  face  of  Fides! 

Later  that  evening,  at  the  ballet,  he  visited  between  the 
acts  the  loge  of  Baroness  Avellan,  the  German  wife  of  a  Swe- 

233 


FAITH  BRANDON 

dish  attache,  and  she  was  soon  whispering  confidentially 
to  him  behind  her  fan. 

"Aha!  dear  Graf!  All  Peterburg  is  talking  of  how  a  cer- 
tain prince  and  chamberlain  is  jealous  of  a  certain  aide-de- 
camp and  attache,  and  would  not  allow  him  to  attend  his 
betrothed  at  the  opera  the  other  evening.  We  are  all 
wondering  how  the  affair  was  arranged  without  a  duel, 
considering  the  young  colonel's  well-known  high  spirit." 

Dovsprung  smiled  contemptuously.  "Dear  Baroness," 
he  remarked,  pleasantly,  "if  it  was  as  easily  arranged  as 
a  little  affair  of  mine  last  Thursday,  then  the  city  may  sleep 
tranquilly." 

"And  how  was  that,  if  it  is  not  indiscreet  to  ask?" 

"Not  at  all!  The  simplest  thing  in  the  world!  Ratrniroff 
and  I  had  invited  Grafinia  Chernyatina  and  her  young 
American  guest  to  his  loge  for  'Faust.'  I  found  at  the  last 
moment  that  the  charming  little  schoolgirl  had  never  seen  the 
opera,  and  was  profoundly  ignorant  of  its  story.  It  is  hard 
to  put  one's  self  in  the  place  of  such  ingenuousness,  but" 

he  hesitated,  twirled  his  moustache  in  dreamy  fashion, 

and  the  somewhat  bold  brilliancy  of  his  eyes  softened  to  a 
tender,  far-away  look.  "Perhaps  I  am  a  foolish  idealist, 
Baroness,  but  —  it  is  our  Russian  nature  —  I  cannot  help 
it!  I  have  the  memory  of  a  little  sister,  and  of  a  loved  little 
kinswoman,  taken  from  us  in  the  bloom  of  their  girlish  inno- 
cence. I  would  not  have  wished  them  to  learn  such  a  story 
for  the  first  time  in  the  presence  of  —  well  —  of  men  who 
were  not  their  fathers  or  their  brothers.  Call  me  a  scrupulous 
fool,  if  you  will;  but  at  the  last  moment  I  went  to  Solntsoff, 
told  him  that  Ratmiroff  and  I  were  unexpectedly  detailed 
on  duty,  and  arranged  to  have  that  respectable  father  of  a 
numerous  flock,  Alyonkin,  with  his  wife,  escort  the  ladies 
in  our  place.  We  joined  them  later  at  supper,  and  passed 
a  friendly,  delightful  evening  together.  That  is  the  whole 
matter.  Baroness.  A  very  simple,  amicable  affair!" 

234 


ISOLDE 

She  stared  at  him,  then  turned  her  head  aside  and  laughed 
dryly.  "I  believe  you,  my  dear  Graf,  though  others  may 
not,  for  I  know  well  your  profoundly  sentimental  nature. 
All  very  idealistic  and  pretty,  but  sadly  misplaced  on  this 
special  occasion." 

He  colored  angrily.  "Why misplaced,  charming  Baroness?" 

"Because  you  do  not  comprehend  American  girlhood. 
You  have  few  examples  in  St.  Petersburg,  but  I  have  met 
many  of  them  in  other  capitals.  My  dear  Graf,  these 
girls  are  brought  up  to  understand  everything  —  simply 
everything.  It  is  astonishing,  it  is  nothing  short  of  incom- 
prehensible, that  she  can  preserve  those  starlike  eyes  and 
that  distracting  air  of  innocence  —  at  twenty-two  years 
of  age,  for  I  happen  to  know  she  is  not  the  schoolgirl  she 
appears!  Her  sisters,  out  of  jealousy,  kept  her  in  short 
frocks  long  after  she  was  full-grown.  I  was  at  Montreux 
last  autumn  and  learned  much  about  this  'child,'  who,  you 
fear,  might  be  contaminated  by  seeing  'Faust'  in  your  pres- 
ence. All  the  world  there  knew  that  Solntsoff  was  forced 
into  the  engagement  by  her  family,  because  she  had  run 
away  from  them  and  taken  refuge  in  his  rooms.  You 
can  see  that  his  heart  is  not  in  the  match,  he  goes  nowhere 
with  her.  At  Yalta,  also,  there  was  trouble.  They  had  to 
send  her  off  hurriedly  to  boarding  school  to  keep  her  from 
being  compromised,  a  married  man,  too,  an  Austrian  baron. 
So  your  chivalrous  delicacy  need  not  be  alarmed  lest  sophis- 
ticated Young  America  will  be  made  to  blush  by  anything 
so  conventional  and  old-fashioned  as  'Faust.'  Ha,  ha! 
Really,  dear  Graf!" 

Dovsprung  was  irritated.  He  had  been  a  fool,  with  his 
sentimental  idealism,  and  tenfold  a  fool  to  have  confided  in 
the  talkative  Baroness  Avellan.  He  would  be  jeered  at 
by  half  Peterburg  before  the  night  was  over!  It  irritated 
him,  too,  that  this  woman  should  so  coolly  brush  the  bloom 
off  the  freshness  of  the  little  Fides.  He  recalled  now,  that 

235 


FAITH  BRANDON 

she  had  indeed  been  sent  hastily  away  from  Yalta  the  day 
after  his  arrival.  He  had  supposed  it  to  be  from  her  sister's 
jealousy  of  Solntsoff's  attentions,  but  now  it  appeared  that 
it  was  Stourdza,  her  hostess's  husband!  He  knew  Stourdza, 
knew  that  though  not  faultless  he  was  yet  a  gentleman, 
punctilious  about  points  of  honor  and  etiquette,  who  would 
not  compromise  a  young  girl,  or  his  wife's  guest.  If  there 
had  been  talk,  the  girl's  own  imprudence  must  have 
caused  it. 

Dovsprung  grew  hot  with  mortification.  It  was  really 
absurd  how  he  had  let  himself  get  interested  in  that  child, 
how  he  had  idealized  her  and  behaved  in  such  an  idiotically 
scrupulous  way  about  her.  With  all  his  experience  he  had 
been  deceived  by  her  air  of  aristocratic  breeding,  combined 
with  the  simplicity  and  pretty  timidity  of  a  German  Back- 
fisch. She  had  captured  Solntsoff  by  these  same  wiles,  and 
now  Lyova,  poor  fellow,  would  gladly  be  out  of  it.  His 
open  neglect  and  indifference  were  plainly  accounted  for. 
He  was  just  the  fellow  to  be  so  taken  in.  But  Dovsprung 
felt  that  there  was  no  excuse  for  the  credulity  of  so  ex- 
perienced a  man  of  the  world  as  himself.  He  had  been  so 
absurdly  chivalrous  toward  her,  had  surrounded  her  with 
every  restraint  and  protection  as  if  she  had  been  the  most 
exquisite  type  of  convent-bred  ingenuousness,  and  all  the 
time  she  had  been  fooling  him  to  the  top  of  her  bent.  The 
baroness  might  well  jeer  at  him.  Lyeff  Petrovich  had  prob- 
ably also  been  highly  amused  by  his  ridiculous  scruples. 
Oh,  it  was  very  funny,  very  laughable  indeed!  But  "he 
laughs  best  who  laughs  last!"  He  would  turn  the  tables 
on  them! 

At  this  juncture  he  looked  up  and  caught  the  sly,  curious 
eyes  of  Baroness  Avellan  searching  his  face. 

"The  little,  unsophisticated  innocent  may  not  have  seen 
'Faust'  before,"  she  said,  slowly  and  meaningly,  "but  she 
has  seen  —  not  once,  but  three  times  —  seen,  read,  and 

236 


ISOLDE 

understood,  Tristan  and  Isolde/  that  Isolde  who  wedded 
the  king  for  his  title,  but  won  the  knight  as  her  lover." 

Dovsprung  felt  nothing  but  supreme  contempt  for  the 
woman  beside  him  who  was  so  insinuatingly  bringing  to 
his  mind  this  tale  of  treachery  and  lawless  love.  He  did 
not  ask  himself  what  ideas  had  been  formulating  in  his  own 
mind  before  she  spoke;  he  condemned  her  as  a  jealous, 
intriguing  woman,  playing  a  base  part  toward  one  of  her  own 
sex.  Nevertheless,  he  spent  the  remainder  of  the  divertisse- 
ment in  her  loge,  though  without  giving  her  the  satisfaction 
of  finding  out  the  effect  of  her  words.  His  expression  was 
impenetrable;  and  with  apparent  indifference  he  turned  the 
conversation  to  other  subjects  of  social  interest. 

But  something  rankled  deeply  in  his  soul.  Fides,  the 
little  Fides,  had  lied  to  him!  He  had  asked  her  what  operas 
she  had  been  allowed  to  see,  and  she  had  designedly  omitted 
one  that  she  bad  seen  three  tunes.  If  she  could  so  deliber- 
ately deceive  him,  then  was  all  true  that  Madame  Avellan 
had  told  him.  There  was  no  Fides!  no  Backfischly!  noth- 
ing but  a  lost  illusion! 

Leaving  the  ballet  he  retraced  his  steps  to  the  Kliazemski 
palace,  for  there  was  still  an  hour  before  he  was  due  at  the 
club,  where  a  farewell  supper  was  to  be  given  at  midnight 
to  a  retiring  Italian  diplomat.  A  dozen  young  people,  rosy 
and  jolly,  were  just  returning  from  ice-hill  sledding  by  elec- 
tric light  in  the  palace  garden,  where  Faith  had  been  thrilled 
by  the  daring  of  the  young  officers,  standing  on  each  other's 
shoulders  as  they  went  down  the  hills  at  terrific  speed,  and 
performing  a  number  of  other  hair-raising  feats. 

They  lingered  in  the  great  hall,  laughing  and  shaking 
the  frozen  snow  from  their  furs.  They  gathered  about 
the  big,  open  fires  and  sang  as  they  warmed  themselves. 
Dovsprung  found  a  seat  next  to  Faith  and  under  cover 
of  the  songs  and  laughter  began  to  talk  to  her  in  melancholy 
mood. 

237 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"The  time  seems  so  short  before  you  will  be  gone,  —  for 
how  long,  Fides?" 

"For  eight  months,"  she  replied,  and  it  suddenly  seemed 
to  her,  also,  that  it  would  be  long.  She,  too,  sighed  a  little 
and  looked  sad. 

He  marked  the  change  of  expression.  "For  you,  it  is 
nothing,"  he  said  gloomily.  "You  have  happiness  to  look 
forward  to;  for  me,  there  is  nothing  but  loneliness  and 
saddest  retrospect."  His  voice  grew  low  and  tense.  "Fides, 
there  is  a  tale  from  the  heroic  ages,  of  the  knight  Tristan  and 
the  damsel  Isolde,  the  betrothed  of  his  king.  He  loved  her, 
but  was  in  honor  bound  to  his  lord  and  friend.  It  is  an 
unhappy  tale,  but  alas!  not  confined  to  the  days  of  old.  Do 
you  know  their  story?" 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Faith,  readily.  "At  least,  I  know  the 
story  of  the  Wagner  opera.  I  have  seen  it  three  times." 

"Indeed,"  he  said,  looking  directly  and  searchingly  into 
her  face.  "You  neglected  to  include  that  opera  in  the  very 
discreet  list  you  recently  gave  me  of  operas  you  had  seen." 

Faith  colored  hotly.  There  was  something  so  unpleasant, 
almost  insolent  in  his  tone  and  manner  that  her  pride  was 
up  in  arms  in  an  instant.  Did  he  mean  to  accuse  her  of 
lying?  She  would  answer  no  such  ungentlemanlike  accusa- 
tion. She  was  proudly  silent  for  a  while,  but  her  sensitive 
spirit  was  deeply  wounded  that  one  who  had  always  treated 
her  with  such  exquisite  courtesy  and  reverent  chivalry 
should  so  suddenly  alter  his  bearing.  The  tears  came  to 
her  eyes  and  her  lips  trembled.  To  the  man  who  watched 
her  she  looked  the  picture  of  confusion  and  detected  guilt. 

After  a  moment  she  gathered  herself  together.  The  ex- 
planation was  so  simple,  why  should  she  refuse  it?  She 
tried  to  speak  quietly  and  naturally,  but  to  her  mortification 
she  stumbled  over  her  words  and  felt  her  cheeks  grew  hotter 
and  hotter. 

"  I  understood  you  to  ask  what  operas  my  German  censors 

238 


ISOLDE 

had  permitted  me  to  see,"  she  explained,  "and  I  answered 
you  with  that  idea.  But  last  summer,  my  brother  took 
me  to  Munich,  where  I  saw  'Tristan  and  Isolde'  three 
times  as  well  as  'Tannhauser'  and  the  'Nibelungen  Trilogy', 
for  Rupert  is  Wagner  mad.  Here,  thanks  to  your  kind 
invitation,  I  have  seen  'Faust,'  and  since  then  'Zhizn  za 
Tsaria,"*  'Yevgeni  Onyegin'  and  the  ballet  'Snyegurochka.'f 
That  is  all  that  I  can  remember  of  ever  having  seen.' 

"Make  an  act  of  contrition  for  all  the  sins  of  your  past 
life,"  he  said,  with  sarcastic  solemnity.  "I  do  not  presume 
to  be  your  father-confessor,  but  you  say  off  your  little  list 
exactly  as  if  you  were  making  a  general  confession." 

Faith  looked  up,  demurely.  "I  am  glad  you  know  the 
formula  so  well,"  she  remarked.  "Somehow,  I  fancied  you 
would  not  be  familiar  with  it." 

"I  hope,"  he  replied,  "that  you  mean  I  can  have 
nothing  to  confess?  "  He  looked  a  little  red  and  displeased. 
"Whether  I  practise  my  religion  or  not,  I  am  at  least  well- 
instructed  in  it.  I  am  no  scoffer.  I  reverence  the  sacra- 
ments. You  do  not  know  our  Russian  nature,  if  you 
think  otherwise." 

"Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  exclaimed  Faith,  greatly  dis- 
tressed. "I  should  not  have  tried  to  chaff  you  on  such  a 
subject.  I  was  inexcusably  thoughtless.  I  do  indeed  give 
you  credit  for  conviction  and  reverence.  I  know  that  the 
Russian  nature  is  deeply  religious." 

"I  cannot  explain  it,"  he  said,  thoughtfully.  "An  Anglo- 
Saxon  can  be  outwardly  reverent,  and  remain  inwardly 
wholly  indifferent,  even  skeptical.  A  Latin  is  so  logical 
that  the  moment  his  life  ceases  to  conform  to  his  religion 
he  becomes  a  scoffer,  antagonistic  to  all  faith.  But  a  Russian, 
be  he  devil  or  saint,  or  plain,  everyday  sinner,  can  neither 
cease  to  believe  nor  learn  to  be  indifferent.  We  must  believe 


"Life  for  the  Tsar." 
f  "  Sleeping  Beauty." 


239 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and  believe  fanatically.  We  may  be  illogical,  but  we  are 
never  indifferent.  In  the  rare  instances  where  a  Russian 
ceases  to  believe  in  God,  then  he  believes  with  equal  fanati- 
cism and  fatalism  in  some  other  deity  —  Anarchy,  Revolu- 
tion, Dynamite,  Universal  Brotherhood,  —  the  absurd 
Brotherhood  of  Socialism,  without  a  Father  God,  or  a  Mother 
Church,  or  an  Elder  Brother  Christ,  or  a  Holy  Spirit  of 
Love!" 

He  saw  the  unmitigated  surprise  in  Faith's  wide  eyes. 
He  laughed  sardomcally.  "It  is  incongruous,  is  it  not? 
The  cynical  Dovsprung  talking  religion!  But,  there!  I  am 
a  Russian.  Let  it  pass!" 

Dovsprung  left  the  circle  when  supper  was  announced,  and 
stepping  into  his  sledge,  drawn  by  a  high-bred  trotter,  was 
driven  to  the  club,  reflecting  as  he  went  upon  the  idea  that 
he  must  now  meet  the  little  Fides  upon  new  ground.  He 
did  not  find  it  easy  to  adapt  himself  to  the  changed  situation. 

"She  extricated  herself  plausibly  enough,"  he  thought. 
"I  must  give  her  credit  for  cleverness.  I  wonder  what  else 
she  has  lied  to  me  about?  They  are  all  alike.  One  cannot 
even  divide  them  into  the  good  and  the  bad,  only  into 
the  clever  and  the  stupid."  He  yawned.  Then  he  flushed 
a  little.  Certainly  she  had  fooled  him  cleverly  enough 
with  that  what  the  Avellan  had  so  aptly  named  her  "dis- 
tracting air  of  innocence,"  so  fascinatingly  combined  with 
intelligence,  sympathy  and  good  companionship.  Alas, 
his  illusion  was  over  now!  She  was  no  longer  the  ingenuous 
"Backfischly,"  no  longer  the  loyal  "Fides,"  but  a  wide- 
awake, sophisticated,  deceitful  little  flirt,  who  was  prob- 
ably laughing  in  her  sleeve  at  his  absurd  Quixotism,  or 
perhaps  was  piqued  that  she  had  not  succeeded  in  bringing 
him  to  her  feet.  Well,  he  would  let  her  know  that  he  was 
not  so  easily  caught.  He  would  flirt  with  her  to  a  certain 
point,  but  not  seriously, —  a  purely  Platonic  affair.  He  had 
lost  interest  in  her  now.  Besides,  thank  God,  he  was  a  man 

240 


ISOLDE 

of  honor.  She  was  Lyova's  betrothed.  He  had  never  yet 
played  a  trick  on  a  friend. 

After  all,  he  could  not  help  sighing  for  his  lost  illusion, 
foolish  as  it  had  been.  It  had  taken  him  back  to  the  days, 
fourteen  years  ago,  when  he  was  a  stripling  of  twenty,  full 
of  romantic  dreams,  and  as  unstained  himself  as  any  Back- 
fischly.  He  and  Lyeff  Petrovich  had  been  great  friends  in 
those  days.  Lyova  was  the  same  to-day  as  then,  while  he, 
Youri  Andrevich,  was — er — well — changed.  But  then,  he 
had  ambition  and  social  gifts  and  had  good  red  blood  in  his 
veins,  and  many  brilliant  women  had  loved  him  madly; 
while  Lyova  was  a  phlegmatic  student,  a  matter-of-fact 
publicist,  a  goody-goody  philanthropist,  whose  few  women 
friends  were  all  patterns  of  dull  virtue.  There  could  be  no 
comparison  between  them.  It  seemed  to  him  now,  that  if 
Fides  were  only  what  he  had  dreamed  her,  he  would  throw 
honor  and  friendship  to  the  winds,  he  would  snatch  his  bride 
from  the  laggard  Lyova  at  the  very  altar,  he  would  surrender 
his  offices  and  career  to  fly  with  her  to  his  estates  in  the 
Ukraine  far  from  gossiping  tongues;  and  there  she  should 
learn  to  love  him  as  never  man  was  so  sweetly  loved  before, 
and  be  his  idolized  wife,  the  chatelaine  of  his  castle,  the 

He  broke  off  here,  and  his  short  upper  lip  curled 
disdainfully. 

"Am  I  turning  into  a  daisy  of  the  field  —  I,  'George  the 
Victorious?' "  he  sneered.  "  How  long  should  I  be  satisfied 
away  from  the  honors  and  interests  that  are  the  very 
breath  of  my  nostrils?  No,  it  is  better  as  it  is!  Another 
illusion  gone,  that  is  all!  I  thought  I  saw  a  loyal  Griselidis, 
an  angelic  Elizabeth;  and  lo!  it  is  only  Isolde,  looking 
about  for  a  Tristan!  Ah  well  then,  good-bye,  sweet  Back- 
fischly!  My  clever  Isolde,  I  salute  you!" 


241 


CHAPTER  XVII 

TRISTAN 

"To  seek  to  know  the  world  is  self-deception  and  a  vain  endeavor  of 
the  heart.  It  is  a  hundredfold  more  pleasant  to  stay  at  home,  shielded 
from  the  temptations  of  the  world,  to  live  simply  with  your  family, 
to  pass  your  time  modestly,  to  commune  vigorously  with  reason  and  — 
to  poke  the  logs  in  the  fireplace!" 

—  Prince  Iv&n  Dolgortiki. 

DOVSPRUNG'S  talk  with  Faith  left  her  in  a  state  of  astonish- 
ment. Hitherto  he  had  seemed  to  her  a  showy,  drawing- 
room  hero,  gallant,  superficial,  self-satisfied.  That  there 
were  depths  to  his  nature  she  had  not  at  first  suspected  was 
evident  from  the  seriousness  with  which  he  had  cultivated 
his  musical  gifts,  and  the  tender  feeling  for  his  mother 
and  his  early  home  which  her  harp-playing  had  awakened. 
But  in  matters  of  religion  she  should  have  expected  him  to 
be  a  skeptic,  if  not  a  scoffer.  She  was  not  prepared  to  find 
him  a  man  of  conviction,  of  thought,  and  of  loyal,  though, 
alas!  not  practical  faith. 

A  sudden  bustle  and  joyous  outcry  at  the  entrance  to  the 
hall  interrupted  her  musings.  A  party  of  some  thirty  mas- 
queraders  came  trooping  in,  men  and  women,  dressed  in 
old  historic  costumes  of  ancient  Russia,  the  Russia  of  Boydrs 
and  Bogatyrs  and  Variags*  They  were  of  the  young  married 
set,  celebrating  the  close  of  the  holidays  by  going  from  house 
to  house  to  serenade  their  acquaintance.  Saluting  their 
hosts,  they  danced  a  stately  national  dance.  Then  one  at  the 
piano  struck  the  opening  chords  of  the  Imperial  Hymn. 

At  once  all  sprang  to  their  feet.  There  was  a  thunderous 
cheer,  "Ural  Ura!"  from  a  score  of  masculine  throats;  and 

*  Nobles,  Knights,  Vikings. 

242 


TRISTAN 

all  with  one  accord  burst  forth  with  inspiring  ardor  into  the 
chant  of  that  most  majestic  and  thrilling  of  all  national 
anthems,  "Bozhe,  Tsdria  hrant."* 

Something  clutched  at  Faith's  throat  and  forced  the  tears 
to  her  eyes,  while  her  heart  throbbed  heavily,  as  it  always  did 
at  the  sound  of  that  magnificent  hymn,  sung  stirringly  and 
heartily  as  Russians  know  how  to  sing  it,  and  as  she  had 
heard  it  sung  by  a  thousand  manly  voices  at  the  opera  when 
"Zhizn  za  Tsaria"  was  being  performed.  Who  could  not 
give  his  life  for  the  sovereign  with  such  a  song  resounding 
in  his  soul? 

"We  have  no  sovereign  in  my  country,"  thought  Faith. 
"We  have  to  sing  to  a  strip  of  colored  cloth.  But  yet  how 
gallantly  men  laid  down  their  lives  for  the  flag  in  the  war 
for  the  Union.  I  mustn't  lose  my  patriotism  because  this 
is  more  romantic  and  imposing." 

At  the  closing  notes  of  "  God  Preserve  the  Tsar,"  there 
rose  again  the  enthusiastic  shout  "lira!  lira!"  Then  drink- 
ing to  the  health  of  their  hosts,  the  masqueraders  trooped 
off  merrily  to  other  hospitable  doors. 

"We  are  all  army  fellows  here  to-night,"  said  Volodia 
Chernyatin,  the  Countess'  young  brother-in-law,  who 
led  Faith  into  the  supper  room.  "Thank  God,  there  is 
no  politics  in  the  army.  Where  men's  lives  are  consecrated 
to  their  country  there  can  be  but  one  idea,  the  inviolability 
of  Holy  Russia,  its  Throne  and  its  Church.  We  are  its 
defenders  and  we  have  nothing  else  to  think  about.  I 
should  go  mad  if  I  had  to  discuss  politics  all  day  long,  fuss- 
ing at  the  foundations  of  everything.  Of  course,  I  see  the 
need  of  reform,  of  criticism,  of  a  strong  public  opinion,  but 
it  should  be  only  for  the  sake  of  maintaining  the  highest 
standards.  This  constant  talk  of  change,  change,  change, 
imitating  this  nation  or  that  nation,  whose  needs  and  tra- 
ditions are  entirely  different  from  ours,  who  are  no  more 

*  "God  Protect  the  Tsar." 

243 


FAITH  BRANDON 

free  from  defects  and  vices  than  we  are,  and  are  without  our 
special  virtues  to  compensate  —  bah!  It  makes  me  ill! 
How  can  Lyova  go  into  political  journalism?" 

"But  Lyeff  Petrovich  is  a  soldier,  too,"  urged  Faith. 
"He  is  defending  the  same  things  that  you  are,  only  with 
different  weapons.  He  defends  your  institutions  from  the 
foes  that  are  within,  from  false  friends.  He  is  a  conserva- 
tive, and  as  zealously  devoted  to  throne  and  church  and 
country  as  any  soldier  can  be." 

She  flushed  quite  prettily  in  her  enthusiasm,  and  the 
young  officer  nodded  and  smiled.  "I  see!  I  see!  I  under- 
stand it  now,"  he  said. 

"What  is  it  you  understand,  Vladimir  Lvovich?"  she 
asked,  puzzled. 

"Why  excuse  me,  Vyera  Karlovna,  but  I  did  not  quite 
see  till  now  how  Lyeff  Petrovich,  who  is  Russian  to  the 
marrow  of  his  bones  and  so  staunch  for  autocracy  and  ortho- 
doxy, was  going  to  manage  with  a  bride  brought  up  in  de- 
mocracy and  non-sectarianism.  But  I  see  you  are  with 
him  heart  and  soul  already." 

But  before  Faith  could  reply  Sergei  Militsyn  was  calling 
across  the  table  to  Chernyatin,  "How  are  your  children 
coming  on,  Volodia?" 

"  Splendidly!  They  are  in  the  third  reader  already.  And 
yours,  Seriozha?" 

"Oh,  mine  are  still  in  the  primer,  worse  luck!" 

Faith  stared.  She  had  thought  that  these  young  officers 
were  unmarried,  and  Chernyatin  looked  far  too  young  to 
have  children  in  the  third  reader. 

"Six  of  mine  can  write  famously,"  announced  Nikita 
Ryapoloff,  and  all  greeted  the  announcement  with  cries 
of  "Good!"  As  young  Prince  Ryapoloff  was  not  a  day 
over  twenty-two  it  stood  to  reason  that  Faith  could  not 
have  comprehended  aright.  She  turned  to  Colonel  Suholmski, 
an  older  officer  who  sat  at  her  other  hand. 


TRISTAN 

"Permit  me,  Pavel  Aleksandrovich.  What  children  are 
they  talking  about?"  she  asked  in  Russian. 

He  smiled  pleasantly,  "  We  officers  are  accustomed  to  call 
the  private  soldiers  our  'children,'"  he  explained.  "We 
have  very  kindly,  affectionate  relations  with  them  as  a  rule, 
and  they  call  even  these  boy  lieutenants  their  'little  fathers.' 
Many  of  the  recruits  come  from  remote  country  districts 
and  can  neither  read  nor  write.  They  are  no  worse  men  for 
that,  for  the  all- wise  Lord  has  made  us  so  that  we  can  have 
all  the  Christian  virtues  in  their  highest  perfection  without 
knowing  one  letter  of  the  alphabet  from  another;  but  every- 
thing nowadays  is  'progress.'  These  good-hearted,  healthy, 
pious  peasants  must  be  cooped  up  and  taught  in  the  name 
of  Progress  to  read  and  write;  and  the  danger  is  they  may 
learn  all  the  wickedness  and  irreligion  of  the  world  through 
the  cheap  newspapers,  and  be  made  discontented  and  des- 
perate. Some  of  the  young  officers  are  interested  in  teaching 
their  soldiers;  and  there  are  fine,  intelligent  men,  like  your 
future  husband,  who  are  striving  to  keep  them  provided 
free,  or  at  a  very  low  price,  with  a  class  of  literature  that  will 
be  entertaining  yet  instructive,  inspiring  the  best  Russian 
ideals.  I  need  not  tell  you  what  a  splendid  fellow  Lyeff 
Petrovich  is,  with  his  many  gifts  and  ceaseless  activities, 
all  devoted  to  the  highest  ends." 

And  Faith  felt  herself  very  happy  among  her  lover's 
friends  and  admirers. 

But  Countess  Chernyatina  was  full  of  misgivings.  She 
had  noticed  Youri  Andrevich's  sentimental,  melancholy 
air  and  whispered  conversation  with  Faith,  had  seen  the 
momentary  gleam  of  insolence  in  his  eyes,  the  girl's  evident 
confusion  and  their  long,  earnest  talk  afterward.  Older, 
more  experienced  women  than  Faith,  and  bound  by  stronger 
ties,  had,  under  the  influence  of  that  same  man's  glowing 
eyes  and  tender  manner,  forgotten  their  vows  of  fidelity 
and  honor.  Would  the  heart  of  Lyova's  little  betrothed 

245 


FAITH  BRANDON 

be  able  to  resist  him?  And  what  were  his  intentions  toward 
her  in  assuming  that  air  of  sentimental  melancholy,  mingled 
with  audacity,  that  had,  alas!  too  often  been  a  success- 
ful weapon  with  him  in  laying  siege  to  frail  feminine 
hearts? 

"And  he  was  such  an  upright  lad,  so  singularly  free  from 
the  vicious  inclinations  of  youth,"  she  thought,  almost 
tearfully.  "But  he  loved  the  world  and  its  rewards,  and  it 
has  corrupted  his  heart  and  blinded  his  eyes.  He  never  had 
the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  and  industry  that  have  kept 
Lyova  in  the  straight  path." 

She  decided  to  speak  of  her  fears  to  her  uncle,  but  the  old 
prince  treated  them  lightly. 

"Our  little  Vyera  is  loyal  and  upright.  I  do  not  an- 
ticipate any  danger  for  her,"  he  said.  "As  for  Youri,  I 
admit  that  he  is  far  from  a  model  man,  that  in  some  respects 
his  conduct  is  detestable,  yet  he  is  not  entirely  without 
principle.  He  has  never  broken  an  innocent  heart,  or 
come  between  betrothed  or  happily  married  couples.  In 
less  happy  households  he  is,  unfortunately,  not  so  scrupu- 
lous, still  there  are  many  misdemeanors  of  which  he  is 
wholly  incapable." 

"  But  why  should  such  a  man  be  allowed  to  associate  at  all 
with  her?  Why  do  we  let  him  come  here?  " 

"We  have  no  ground  for  denying  him  the  house.  He  has 
the  right  of  long-standing  friendship  to  come,  and  you  must 
remember  that,  after  all,  nothing  is  proven  against  him.  He 
is  in  position  of  a  man  who  is  suspected  of  wrong-doing 
but  not  convicted.  It  is  the  old  parable  of  the  tares 
and  the  wheat.  You  must  not  root  out  the  tares  for  fear 
of  injuring  the  wheat.  Society  shakes  its  head  and  shrugs 
its  shoulders,  insinuates  much  and  believes  more,  but  it  does 
not  close  its  doors  to  him,  because  to  condemn  him  would  be 
to  condemn  others  with  him.  For  the  woman's  sake,  he 
must  have  the  benefit  of  the  doubt;  and  he  has  shielded  well 

246 


TRISTAN 

the  honor  of  those  whom  he  has  found  too  ready  to  stoop 
to  dishonor." 

"It  is  cowardly  to  protect  himself  in  that  way  behind  the 
good  name  of  a  weak  woman,"  said  Natalia  Petrovna,  con- 
temptuously. 

"I  do  not  know  any  form  of  sin,  however  the  world  may 
gild  or  soften  it,  that  is  not  of  ugly  aspect,  "remarked  the  old 
prince.  "We  must  hate  the  sin,  but  be  slow  to  condemn 
the  sinner,  since  we  can  have  so  little  knowledge  of  what 
led  to  his  fall.  The  day  of  judgment  will  doubtless  reveal 
much  that  will  make  us  lenient  to  poor  sinners,  and  send 
many  of  us  unexpectedly  to  a  long  and  severe  purgatory." 

"  The  day  of  judgment  will  be  a  very  satisfactory  occasion 
in  many  respects,"  observed  Natalia  Petrovna,  dryly,  "but 
it  is  a  long  way  off.  I  would  like  Youri  Andrevich  to  get 
his  purgatory  at  once  here  on  earth." 

"  Go  pray  for  him! "  suggested  her  uncle,  smiling. 

"I  cannot.  I  have  not  Christian  feelings  toward  him," 
she  replied. 

"Without  charity  the  other  virtues  are  nothing,"  he 
reminded  her,  reproachfully. 

"The  world  has  far  too  much  charity  for  him  already," 
she  retorted. 

Leaving  her  uncle  she  sought  her  brother.  She  found  him 
looking  a  little  pale,  and  no  wonder,  for  he  was  doing  double 
work,  occupied  in  the  Imperial  Archives  from  eleven  to  five 
daily,  and  in  the  printing  rooms  from  nine  in  the  evening 
till  three  in  the  morning.  When  the  hours  for  necessary 
sleep  and  food  were  deducted,  how  few  remained  to  him  for 
recreation,  and  for  the  society  of  their  young  guest! 

"Cannot  you  give  more  time  to  Vy6ra  Karlovna?"  asked 
his  sister. 

He  looked  up  quickly,  but  not  in  the  least  apprehensively. 
"She  understands  perfectly  why  I  am  with  her  so  little. 
She  is  not  hurt  by  it." 

247 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"There  are  others  who  may  try  to  take  advantage  of 
it,"  she  suggested. 

He  thought  a  moment,  shook  his  head  and  smiled  con- 
tentedly. 

"I  am  not  afraid,"  he  said,  easily.  "  Vyera's  little  heart 
is  true  and  staunch,  and  the  boys  she  meets  here  are  all 
honorable  fellows." 

"The  one  I  had  in  mind  is  no  boy,"  said  Natalie  Petrovna. 

"And  he  is  the  most  trustworthy  of  all,"  he  replied.  "  I 
know  his  misdeeds  and  I  regret  them  as  deeply  as  you  can ; 
but  in  all  these  years  I  have  never  found  him  other  than 
the  soul  of  chivalry  toward  the  young,  and  the  soul 
of  honor  toward  his  friends.  Besides,"  he  added,  "you 
omit  the  woman  in  the  case, —  Yurochka  has  my  little  Vyera 
to  deal  with!  If  he  should  so  far  forget  himself  as  to  at- 
tempt to  win  her  from  me,  either  now  or  hereafter,  she  would 
very  quickly  settle  him,"  and  he  laughed  heartily  at  the 
thought. 

His  confidence  was  inspiring.  Natalia  Petrovna's  heart 
felt  lighter.  She  embraced  her  brother  affectionately  and 
begged  his  pardon  for  her  interference.  "I  suppose  it  is 
true  that  women,  married  women  especially,  have  largely 
themselves  to  blame.  Even  'Georgiy  Pobyedonosets'  could 
not  be  the  reputed  hero  of  so  many  scandals  had  he  met 
with  more  rebuffs." 

"  Oh,  have  you  really  found  that  out?"  asked  her  brother,  sar- 
castically. "  A  good  woman  is  usually  so  loyal  to  her  sex  that 
she  is  blind  to  the  fact  that  it  takes  two  to  make  such  scandals. 
We  men  know  a  different  side  of  the  story.  The  straightest 
of  us  cannot  escape  direct  temptation  from  members  of  your 
sex  throughout  our  whole  lives,  not  alone  from  the  openly 
unworthy,  but  often  from  many  seemingly  irreproachable. 
Yet  the  virtue  of  a  good  woman  is  respected  even  by  libertines, 
and  chivalrously  guarded  by  every  man  worthy  of  the  name. 
I  venture  to  say  that  you,  for  instance,  have  gone  through 

248 


TRISTAN 

life  practically  untempted.  Your  brother,  though  striving 
to  avoid  it,  has  met  temptation  at  every  turn,  while  you  have 
met  with  nothing  but  profound  respect." 

"Is  it  a  tribute  to  my  goodness?"  she  asked.  "Good 
women  never  know  whether  their  immunity  from  tempta- 
tion is  owing  to  the  profound  respect  or  —  the  profound 
indifference  that  they  inspire." 

Then  to  punish  herself  for  her  uncharitable  suspicions 
and  generally  unchristian  feelings  she  walked  over  to  the 
Kazansky  Sobor,*  lighted  a  candle  before  the  shrine  of  the 
Sorrowing  Mother  of  God,fand  said  some  long,  though  rather 
perfunctory  prayers  for  the  reclamation  of  Youri  Andrevich. 

About  a  week  after  the  visit  of  the  grand-ducal  family, 
an  invitation  had  come  to  an  informal  "at  home"  from 
Countess  Tyomenskaya,  lady-in-waiting  to  Grand  Duchess 
Vyera  Bogdanova,  hi  her  apartment  in  a  wing  of  the  grand- 
ducal  palace. 

"That  is  a  little  trick  the  Imperial  families  have,"  Soln- 
tsoff  explained  to  Faith.  "If  they  send  out  invitations  in 
their  own  name  there  would  necessarily  be  many  formalities, 
and  any  omissions  might  give  offence.  But  when  the  enter- 
tainment is  given  in  the  name  of  one  of  the  dignitaries  of 
the  Imperial  household,  then  nothing  can  be  said  and  every- 
thing is  perfectly  informal.  You  do  not  have  to  wear  court 
dress  or  observe  any  ceremony." 

Faith  went  with  Countess  Shumarova,  and  her  two  daugh- 
ters, attended  by  Volodia  Chernyatin  and  Borya  Klia'zemski. 
Countess  Tyomenskaya  received  her  invited  guests,  about 
twenty-five  in  number,  in  her  unpretentious  salon  and  gave 
them  tea.  Grand  Duchess  Vyera  and  her  brothers,  the 
young  Grand  Dukes  Vsevolod  and  Youri,  were  present. 
Grand  Duke  Bogd&n  came  in  after  tea  and  played  skat  in 

*  Cathedral  of  Our  Lady  of  Kazan. 

t  In  Russia  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary  is  called  Bogordditsa,  i.  e.,  Birth- 
giver  of  God,  or  Bogomdter,  Mother  of  God,  with  the  prefix  "  Most-Pure." 

249 


FAITH  BRANDON 

the  adjoining  card  room  with  some  of  the  fathers  and 
mothers,  while  the  young  people  joined  heartily  in  merry 
round-games  and  charades.  Other  members  of  the  Imperial 
family  dropped  in  later  in  the  evening  from  a  state  dinner 
at  the  Anichkoff  palace,*  and  with  them  came  half  a  dozen 
Yunkers  and  Freylinif  with  an  equerry  or  two  and  a  stately 
marshal  of  the  court;  but  all  in  most  complete  informality, 
every  one  calling  each  other  by  their  first  names  and  even 
nicknames,  and  the  usual  spirit  of  genial,  good-natured 
Russian  sociability  prevailing.  There  was  a  cozy  little  sup- 
per at  midnight  and  then  all  adjourned,  at  Grand  Duke 
Bogdan's  suggestion,  to  the  big  ballroom  of  the  palace, 
where  they  wound  up  the  evening  with  music  and  dancing. 

Grand  Duchess  Vyera  had  taken  Faith  to  her  own  room, 
and  had  shown  her  the  simply  furnished,  homelike  suite  of 
rooms  in  which  the  family  lived,  the  state  apartments  being 
used  for  entertainments  only;  while  Grand  Duke  Vsevolod 
spent  nearly  an  hour  exhibiting  to  her  his  collection  of 
Shakespeariana,  and  they  discussed  eagerly  their  favorite 
plays  and  characters.  It  was  all  delightfully  friendly 
and  simple. 

The  next  interest  was  the  great  Mesetski  ball  in  one  of 
the  most  superb  of  St.  Petersburg's  many  superb  private 
palaces.  The  Emperor  and  Empress  and  all  the  court,  the 
ambassadors,  and  the  great  dignitaries  of  the  Empire  were 
expected  to  be  present,  and  to  this  Faith  also  received  an 
invitation  as  the  guest  of  Countess  Chernyatina. 

"I  need  a  fairy  godmother!"  she  sighed.  "How  I  long 
to  go!" 

And  presto!     A  fairy  appeared. 

Solntsoff  had  dropped  in  as  usual  to  see  Faith  for  half  an 
hour  before  dinner.  She  never  failed  to  return  from  her 
afternoon  engagements  in  time  to  dress  early  and  be  ready 

*  Residence  of  the  Empress  Dowager, 
t  Pages  and  maids  of  honor. 

250 


TRISTAN 

to  meet  him.  He  had  been  too  proud  to  alter  his  program 
in  any  way,  in  spite  of  his  sister's  fears,  too  proud  to  stoop 
to  suspicion  of  his  friend,  too  proudly  confident  of  Faith. 
To-day  he  found  her  full  of  excitement. 

"I  have  such  a  wonderful  letter  from  Uncle  Ludlow," 
she  explained.  "There  are  two  most  astonishing  things  in 
it.  One  concerns  this  world  and  the  other  the  next,  so  we 
will  begin  with  the  next,  as  more  important.  Just  listen  to 
what  he  writes ! 

"'My  dear  Godchild:  I  was  much  touched  by  the  letter 
in  which  you  tell  me  that  you  cried  on  Christmas  day  because 
you  could  not  receive  the  Orthodox  Communion  with  your 
betrothed.  I  feel  strongly  that  there  should  not  be  this 
separation.  It  is  not  right.  Were  your  future  husband  to 
be  in  England  or  America,  I  would  gladly  receive  him  to  our 
sacraments  as  one  of  ourselves;  but,  since  there  is  no  pros- 
pect of  this  I  shall  be  equally  glad  to  have  you,  in  Russia, 
receive  the  sacraments  in  the  Russian  Church.  See  some 
of  their  higher  clergy  and  urge  them  to  admit  you  to  the 
Orthodox  Communion  as  one  of  themselves.  I  find  nothing 
in  their  doctrines  that  you  may  not  accept,  nothing  not 
implicitly  held  by  the  advanced  Catholic  party  in  the 
Anglican  church.'" 

Faith  clapped  her  hands  and  looked  happily  up  into  her 
lover's  equally  happy  face.  "Lyova,  dear  Lyova,  there  will 
now  be  no  least  little  shadow  of  separation  between  us!" 

"But,  Vyera,"  he  asked,  thoughtfully,  "does  your  uncle 
understand  that  in  coming  into  our  Church  you  will  have 
formally  to  condemn  the  Anglican  Church  for  having  tam- 
pered with  the  Apostolic  doctrines  and  traditions?" 

"Oh,  Uncle  will  not  mind,"  declared  Faith,  joyously. 
"He  says  himself,  with  the  utmost  frankness,  that  the  Re- 
formers went  too  far  in  touching  doctrines.  The  High- 
Church  party  is  now  trying  to  restore  those  very  doctrines, 
so  he  could  not  possibly  object!" 

251 


FAITH  BBANDON 

•'Not  logically,"  corrected  Solntsoff,  "but  it  is  astonish- 
ing to  see  your  uncle  so  logical  when  it  involves  the  rejection 
of  his  claim  to  have  Holy  Orders." 

"But,  now,"  Faith  cried  gayly,  "let  us  come  down  from 
heaven  to  earth.  You  remember,  Lyova,  I  denied  myself  a 
ball  gown  for  our  Christmas  tree,  and,  behold  my  reward! 
Uncle  Ludlow,  who  never  made  me  a  present  that  I  can 
remember  since  he  gave  a  silver  mug  at  my  baptism,  has 
sent  me  a  check  for  one  hundred  dollars!  He  says  I  may 
need  it  for  'feminine  kickshaws.'  Query!  Is  a  ball  dress  a 
'kickshaw'?  Also,  why  does  he  send  it  at  this  particular 
juncture?  It  was  an  inspiration.  Dear,  good  uncle!  He 
is  my  fairy  godfather!" 

Solntsoff  grinned.  "I  can  hardly  picture  the  bishop 
as  a  fairy.  I  think,  rather,  that  it  is  a  peace  offering," 
he  suggested.  "He  is  atoning  for  the  discomfort  he  caused 
you  last  spring  on  my  account.  He  is  on  his  way 
to  visit  us  here,  and  then  will  take  you  away  from  me 
for  eight  long  months.  It  is  well  that  he  should  salve 
over  his  disagreeable  errand  in  some  way.  But,  Faith, 
the  gown  must  be  yellow,  —  '  an  amber  gleam,'  as  I  first 
saw  you." 

"I  am  going  to  the  ba.ll!"  said  Faith,  slowly.  "And  my 
prince  will  go  with  me  in  all  his  splendor.  Think!  I 
have  never  seen  you  in  mundirl* 

He  frowned  a  little.  "I  thought  Somebody  was  going  to 
be  reasonable,  and  not  expect  her  stupid,  busy  old  lover  to 
go  about  with  her." 

She  sighed.  "  Couldn't  you  leave  your  work  a  little  earlier 
than  usual?  I  want  to  see  you  just  once  in  court  life,  before 
you  give  it  up." 

"I  cannot  conscientiously  leave  before  the  workmen.  It 
is  usually  long  after  three  o'clock  when  I  am  through.  Then 
I  have  to  come  home,  take  a  steam  bath  —  I  should  need  it 

*Full-dress  uniform,  pronounced  moon-deer. 

252 


TRISTAN 

—  and  dress.  Oh,  even  a  Peterburg  ball  would  be  fairly 
over  by  that  time." 

She  tried  not  to  show  her  disappointment,  but  he  saw 
the  quiver  of  suppressed  tears.  He  put  his  arm  about  her 
and  drew  her  close  to  his  side. 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  to  lead  so  much  of  my  life  apart  from 
you,  but  it  is  a  man's  way.  After  all,  are  we  not  happier 
together  at  home,  than  at  a  ball?" 

She  looked  up  a  little  wistfully.  "I  am  afraid  I  am  very 
childish,"  she  said.  "  I  should  like  to  be  more  to  you.  Yet 
I  am  glad  to  be  part  of  your  life,  even  if  it  is  a  very  tiny  part." 

"Good  heavens!  Faith!  Little  Comrade!  Is  it  possible 
you  do  not  yet  know  what  you  are  to  me?  Have  you  no 
conception  of  how  my  heart  is  bound  up  in  you?  Listen! 
Do  you  think  it  has  been  easy  for  me  to  lead  a  life  of  strict 
virtue  all  these  years?  What  is  it  that  has  kept  me  up? 
A  vision  of  faith!  An  ideal  of  womanhood!  And  just  as 
I  was  beginning  to  grow  skeptical  and  bitter  and  doubtful 
of  God's  grace,  you  suddenly  came  into  my  life.  You 
walked  almost  into  my  arms  and  wholly  into  my  heart,  and 
I  was  restless  and  wretched  until  I  had  won  you.  -Faith! 
Faith!  If  you  should  prove  false,  I  should  go  to  pieces!  It 
would  either  kill  me  outright,  or  I  should  go  straight  to  the 
devil." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  You  are  too  strong  a  man  for 
that,"  she  said,  decidedly.  "You  would  be  much  more 
likely  to  go  to  a  monastery.  Your  religion,  your  principles, 
they  are  what  you  rely  on,  and  not  on  the  weaknesses  and 
inconsistencies  and  vacillations  of  a  child  like  me." 

"I  cannot  answer  for  myself.  I  should  not,  indeed, 
lose  my  faith  in  God;  but  my  faith  in  woman's  truth,  in  the 
possibility  of  human  virtue,  would  be  shaken  to  its  founda- 
tion. I  should  be  bereft  of  hope,  of  ideal,  of  motive. 
God  have  pity  on  my  sinful  soul  in  such  a  day ! " 

" But  I  shall  be  true  to  you,"  protested  Faith.  "There  will 

253 


FAITH  BRANDON 

be  no  such  day!  Who  would  come  between  us?  I  have 
never  known  any  love  but  you.  'All  men  beside  are  to  me 
like  shadows!'" 

"I  could  bear  it  better  to  lose  you  by  death,"  he  said, 
sadly.  "Then  I  could  still  retain  my  Vision  of  Faith.  But 
I  do  not  mean  to  frighten  you,  Vyera,  my  soul."  He  smiled 
tenderly  and  teasingly  down  at  her.  "See  how  absolutely 
I  trust  you!  I  leave  you  alone,  day  after  day,  with  all 
those  fascinating  young  officers  in  uniform,  with  a  man 
who  is  known  as  the  most  dangerous  flirt  in  Peterburg, 
and  with  a  grand  duke  who  hangs  on  your  every  word!  1 
am  a  trusting  man,  Vyera." 

"Oh,  tell  me!  Is  Vsevolod  Bogdanovich  lazy?"  she  asked 
with  concern. 

He  laughed  heartily.  "He  told  me  about  that!  He  is 
not  exactly  lazy,  but  he  is  sensitive  and  easily  discouraged. 
He  is  mature  beyond  his  years  in  many  ways,  a  diligent  and 
persevering  student  up  to  a  certain  point.  Then  suddenly  it 
all  seems  useless  to  him.  The  present  political  opposition 
to  the  grand  dukes  has  cut  him  deeply.  He  would  serve  his 
country  so  gladly  and  disinterestedly!  But  he  says  you  have 
shown  him  there  is  no  one's  life  not  circumscribed  in  some 
particulars.  It  will  encourage  him  to  new  and  more  en- 
during efforts.  To  be  sure,"  he  added,  humorously,  "I 
have  often  told  him  the  same  thing,  but  he  receives  it  with 
more  grace  from  you!" 

The  eagerly  anticipated  ball  was  a  brilliant  spectacle. 
All  the  cosmopolitan  grace  and  charm  of  St.  Petersburg 
society  was  seen  there  in  its  greatest  distinction.  The 
young  married  women,  exquisitely  gowned,  graceful  and 
dainty;  the  girls  merry,  frank  and  intelligent;  the  older 
women  with  their  courteous  air  of  high-breeding;  the 
big,  genial,  attractive-looking  men  in  gorgeous  unforms, 
with  their  cordiality  and  gentle  charm  of  manner  and  their 
many  social  accomplishments;  the  magnificent  Louis  Quinze 

254 


TRISTAN 

ballroom,  the  soft  illumination,  the  flowers,  the  perfumes, 
the  delicious,  rhythmic  music,  all  combined  to  make  an 
ineffaceable  impression  on  a  romantic  young  spirit.  In  her 
new  amber  satin  ball  gown,  which  she  felt  was  the  most 
becoming  thing  she  had  ever  worn,  assiduously  waited  on 
and  danced  with  by  then-  own  special  circle  of  young  officers 
and  diplomats,  from  time  to  time  presented  to  men  and 
women  of  high  birth  and  distinguished  career,  having  two 
dances  each  with  Grand  Duke  Vsevolod  and  the  older,  but 
very  cultivated  and  agreeable  Grand  Duke  Grigori,  Faith 
was  excited  and  happy  and  in  a  fair  way  to  have  her  young 
head  turned  with  success  and  pleasure. 

But  every  now  and  then,  in  the  midst  of  all  the  splendor 
and  delights,  she  would  seem  to  see  herself  in  her  simple, 
everyday  dress,  standing  by  the  side  of  Lyeff  Petrovich  at 
his  table,  littered  with  books  and  papers.  She  saw  him  as 
he  worked,  so  still,  so  concentrated,  yet  withal  so  eager, 
his  mind  clear,  orderly,  absorbed.  She  seemed  to  see 
the  glance  of  his  eye  as  he  looked  up  at  her,  to  feel 
the  touch  of  his  hand  on  hers;  and  the  ballroom  with  its 
brilliant  occupants  would  vanish,  and  she  would  be  saying 
passionately  to  her  lover  that  he  and  his  work  were  her 
world,  and  this  other  world  was  nothing,  because  he  was  not 
in  it! 

It  was  when  in  one  of  these  moods  that  Dovsprung  ap- 
proached her.  Youri  Andrevich  was  a  very  splendid  per- 
sonage that  night.  He  was  one  of  two  officers  detailed  to 
conduct  the  court  dances.  He  had  led  the  mazourka  with 
an  Imperial  Princess,  he  had  directed  the  figures  of  the  first 
cotillon  with  infinite  spirit  and  grace,  he  had  sat  at  Their 
Majesties'  table  at  supper.  Now  the  second  cotillon  was 
in  full  swing,  directed  by  Prince  Dalnozorki  of  the  Sem- 
yonovski  Guards,  and  he  was  free.  He  brought  his  favor 
to  Faith,  whose  partner  was  the  young  Count  Sergyei 
Mihailovich  Militsyn. 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"Permit  me,  Seriozha!  With  Miss  Brandon's  leave 
I  will  sit  out  the  figure  with  her." 

Dovsprung  was  still  suffering  from  the  violent  reaction 
in  his  feelings,  from  the  wounded  pride  of  a  man  who  has 
been  deceived  in  his  noblest  emotions,  whose  holiest  impulses 
have  led  him  to  disillusion  and  ridicule.  He  was  hot  with  an 
angry  instinct  to  avenge  himself,  to  turn  the  tables  on  those 
who  laughed  at  him.  His  evil  genius  had  pursued  him 
throughout  the  evening.  It  seemed  as  if  every  woman  he 
met  was  possessed  to  rally  him  about  his  new  flame.  All 
took  it  for  granted  that  the  little  American  was  in  love  with 
him.  Some  pitied  her  secret  heart-break,  others  reproved 
him  for  trying  to  win  away  a  friend's  bride.  Others,  more 
cynical,  credited  poor  Faith  with  an  ambition  both  to  wear 
the  title  of  princess  and  to  have  the  most  fascinating  man 
in  St.  Petersburg  for  her  lover.  Dovsprung's  vanity  listened 
fatuously,  though  his  sense  of  what  was  becoming  in  a 
gentleman  made  him  murmur  various  ineffectual  remon- 
strances. "It  was  not  as  they  supposed.  The  young  lady 
was  an  American  and  did  not  wear  her  heart  on  her  sleeve. 
A  purely  Platonic  friendship !  As  for  himself,  honor,  friend- 
ship forbade.  He  begged  their  consideration  for  the  young 
lady's  sake!" 

But  their  words  were  not  without  effect.  If  she  were  the 
innocent,  loyal  child  he  had  once  supposed  her,  would  so 
many  observers  believe  her  capable  of  scheming  for  Solntsoff  's 
title  and  his,  Dovsprung's  love?  Well,  he  would  soon  find 
out.  The  affair  was  coming  to  a  more  interesting  stage  than 
he  had  anticipated.  To  think  that  he  had  ever  been  so 
absurdly  scrupulous  about  her! 

"Fides,"  he  said,  his  brilliant  eyes  softening  to  a  dreamy 
melancholy,  and  a  thrill  of  tense  feeling  in  his  subdued 
tones,  "Fides,  since  you  cared  to  see  it  three  times,  the  tale 
of  'Tristan  and  Isolde'  must  have  held  your  sympathy,  it 
must  have  moved  you  to  pity  for  the  sufferings  of  a  man 

256 


TRISTAN 

whom  fate  forced  to  love  the  bride  of  the  friend  who  trusted 
him.  Have  you  no  tear  to  shed  for  such  unhappy  love?" 

"You  seem  to  have  Tristan  on  the  brain.  This  is  the 
second  time  you  have  asked  me  about  it,"  said  Faith,  who 
did  not  like  his  tone.  "I  could  not  cry  because  the  opera 
story  is  stupid.  She  cared  more  to  be  a  queen  than  to  be 
loved;  and  she  did  not  love  Tristan  for  himself  but  only 
through  a  love  potion.  I  have  no  tears  for  such  love  as 
that." 

"You  are  wise  to  shed  no  tears  for  her,"  he  returned. 
"  She  had  both  her  throne  and  her  lover.  What  more  could 
woman  wish?  But  it  is  not  Isolde,  it  is  Tristan  that  you 
should  pity  —  a  man  trusted  by  his  friend,  bound  in  honor 
to  that  friend's  interests,  yet  loving  —  despairing,"  —  he 
broke  off.  His  voice  was  low  and  vibrant  with  emotion, 
he  leaned  forward  and  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand. 

There  was  no  answer  from  Faith,  and  after  a  moment 
he  looked  up  to  discover  the  cause  of  her  prolonged  silence. 

Among  the  many  uniformed  figures  in  the  room  scarcely 
a  man  was  to  be  seen  in  the  conventional  black  of  civil  life. 
Royalty  was  present  and  court-dress  was  in  order.  With 
all  her  pride  in  her  lover's  work  and  democratic  tastes  Faith 
was  still  childish  enough  to  wish  that  her  prince,  also,  might 
appear  in  picturesque  habiliments  among  the  favored  ones 
of  the  world.  Surely  there  was  not  a  more  stately,  well- 
poised  form  in  the  room  to-night  than  his  would  be,  if  shown 
off  to  the  same  advantage.  While  Youri  Andrevich  was 
uttering  his  sentimental  plaint,  she  was  scrutinizing  a  man 
in  chamberlain's  court  dress  standing  in  the  doorway  with 
his  back  to  her. 

"There,"  she  thought,  "is  the  exact  counterpart  of  Lyova! 
Oh,  he  would  look  every  bit  as  stunning!" 

It  was  a  tall,  largely-molded  form,  about  an  inch  over 
six  feet,  clad  in  green  uniform  richly  embroidered  with 
peacock's  feathers,  the  straight,  shapely  legs  encased  in 

257 


FAITH  BRANDON 

close-fitting  white  trousers  and  high  black  boots.  A  ribbon 
across  the  breast  was  attached  to  the  star  of  some  order,  and 
the  embroidered  collar  bore  the  insignia  of  office.  Evidently 
the  man  held  some  high  position  in  the  Imperial  household, 
and  made  a  striking  and  distinguished  figure. 

"He  is  the  exact  counterpart  of  Lyova,"  she  said  again  to 
herself.  She  could  not  take  her  eyes  away  from  him.  Per- 
haps he  felt  their  influence,  for  he  soon  turned  his  face  and 
looked  straight  at  her.  It  was  a  fair,  strong,  clever  face, 
with  a  pair  of  keen,  pleasant,  light-blue  eyes,  and  the  mouth, 
under  its  long,  fair  moustache,  was  curved  into  a  very 
friendly,  merry  smile. 

Faith's  surprise  was  complete.  She  was  so  touched,  so 
pleased,  so  astonished  that  she  hardly  knew  whether  to  laugh 
or  to  cry.  She  looked  confused  and  uncertain,  her  cheeks 
paled  and  flushed  alternately. 

Dovsprung  saw  her  confusion  and  change  of  color  and 
quickly  detected  the  cause,  as  Solntso_i,  in  his  court-dress 
and  insignia  as  an  Imperial  chamberlain  and  master-of-the- 
palace  drew  near  them.  It  irritated  the  melancholy  Tristan 
to  have  his  flirtation  interrupted,  and  it  irritated  him  still 
further  to  see  Faith's  confusion  and  lack  of  self-control.  He 
arose,  however,  as  Faith  rose,  and  he  shook  hands  most 
cordially  with  Isolde's  betrothed. 

"If  she  colors  up  and  gets  so  embarrassed  every  time  he 
catches  us  together,  it  will  spoil  the  whole  game,"  he  thought 
angrily,  for  it  was  part  of  his  "code  of  honor"  that  the  other 
man  should  have  no  suspicion  that  there  was  any  game 
going  on. 

Many  years  earlier  there  was  a  time  when  Dovsprung, 
before  he  had  become  so  well-versed  in  the  codes  of  honor 
of  the  World,  had  sat  on  the  benches  of  Father  Platen's 
catechism  class  and  had  studied  another  Code  of  Honor.  He 
had  committed  to  memory  and  repeated  many  tunes  "Thou 
shalt  not  covet  thy  neighbor's  wife,  nor  anything  which 


TRISTAN 

is  his."  He  had  then  been  a  clean,  upright  lad  and  an 
ambitious  student.  At  the  same  period  of  his  life  he  had 
committed  to  memory  many  lines  of  Greek  and  Latin  classics. 
Since  those  days  he  had  become  a  soldier,  a  courtier,  a  diplo- 
mat, the  dead  languages  were  of  no  advantage  to  him  in 
modern  warfare,  in  court  intrigue,  or  the  social  life  of  the 
great  capitals.  Therefore  the  Latin  and  the  Greek,  for  want 
of  use,  had  slipped  from  his  memory;  and,  together  with 
them,  the  equally  useless,  cumbersome  and  antiquated 
Hebrew  Code  of  Honor! 


259 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

FIDES! 

"You  will  meet  witn  unhappy  souls,  sunk  in  corruption,  slaves  of 
sin  —  but,  fear  nothing!  Despite  the  depths  of  their  degradation 
you  will  find  in  them  hidden  treasures,  precious  remains  of  a  good 
natural  disposition,  happy  inclinations  to  virtue,  traces  of  religion  and 
faith  which  will  give  you  more  than  the  hope  —  the  certainty  —  of 
their  salvation!" 

—  Pope  Pius  X. 

IF  FAITH  was  lost  in  admiration  and  delight  over  the 
appearance  of  her  lover,  he  was  equally  so  over  his  betrothed. 
Hitherto  he  had  never  concerned  himself  as  to  whether 
Faith  was  pretty  or  not.  He  knew  that  her  face  was  for 
him  the  most  attractive  in  all  the  world,  with  its  noble  lines 
and  ever  changing  expressiveness,  eloquent  of  the  charm 
of  mind  and  heart  and  character.  From  the  first  moment 
he  saw  her  he  had  loved  her  face  for  what  it  spoke  for.  It 
was  to  him  the  window  of  her  soul  and  as  such  it  was  beauti- 
ful to  him,  —  "the  fairest,  that  e'er  the  sun  shone  onl" 
He  did  not  ask  that  the  world  should  agree  with  him.  But 
to-night  she  was  unmistakably,  radiantly  pretty.  The 
amber  sheen  of  the  long  ball  gown,  with  its  modestly  cut, 
girlish  round-neck,  the  becomingly  arranged  hair  with  tea 
roses  nestling  near  the  face,  set  off  her  complexion,  heightened 
the  best  points  and  softened  the  irregularities  of  her  face; 
and  to-night,  at  least,  she  was  truly  a  beauty.  He  acknowl- 
edged grudgingly  the  power  of  dress.  His  heart  throbbed 
high  with  masculine  pride  and  passion.  Faith  saw  the 
blaze  of  admiration  in  his  eyes  and  laughed  with  pleasure. 

"I  surrender!"  he  exclaimed  gayly,  surveying  her  ap- 
provingly from  head  to  foot.  "I  do  not  retract  what  I 

260 


FIDES 

said  about  being  content  with  you  in  sack-cloth,  but  I  admit 
that  full  dress  does  make  a  difference!" 

"Ditto,  ditto!  Your  Splendor!"  laughed  Faith,  mak- 
ing him  a  sweeping  obeisance. 

Dovsprung  relinquished  her  to  Solntsoff  with  debonair 
courtesy,  and  Faith  gleefully  felt  that  her  wildest  dreams 
were  coming  true  as  Lyeff  Petrovich  put  his  hand  about  her 
waist  and  drew  her  into  the  waltz. 

"Oh,  Lyova,"  she  exclaimed,  happily.  "Am  I  really 
awake,  or  is  it  all  a  dream?  Will  the  clock  strike,  and 
shall  I  find  myself  back  among  the  ashes  and  rags  of  every- 
day life?  Never  mind!  I  have  had  my  dream,  I  have 
danced  at  the  ball  with  my  Prince  in  all  his  glory!  I  have 
enjoyed  the  pomps  and  vanities  of  this  wicked  world,  and 
now  I  am  willing  to  renounce  them  forever,  provided,  of 
course,  that  my  Prince  is  with  me  among  the  ashes  and 
rags." 

"Foolish,  romantic  girl!"  said  His  Splendor  reprovingly; 
but  Faith  thought  she  had  never  seen  him  look  so  happy, 
so  young  and  so  handsome.  Then  he  fetched  a  sudden 
sigh.  "Ah,  Faith!  If  you  knew  all  this  as  well  as  I  do,  if 
you  saw  it  all  as  I  do,"  he  said,  with  a  vague  gesture  toward 
the  brilliant  scene  and  its  gay  throngs.  "It  is  this  that 
seems  to  me  ashes  and  rags,  and  it  is  the  Iktie  modest  home 
that  looks  all  riches  and  joy  and  'amber  gleam!"1 

Dovsprung  had  relinquished  Faith  with  outward  grace 
but  inward  discontent.  "She  is  overdoing  it  now,"  he 
grumbled.  "The  idea  of  raving  over  that  tawdry,  civilian 
outfit  of  his.  It  makes  him  look  like  a  mountebank.  The 
color,  too,  is  unbecoming  to  his  sallow  complexion  and 
yellow  hair,  which,  by  the  way,  is  getting  noticeably  thin 
on  top.  He  will  be  bald  as  a  billiard  ball  inside  of  six 
years." 

His  friend,  Kny£z  Nikolay  Ratmiroff,  joined  him  at  the 
buffet.  It  was  not  an  easy  thing  to  advise  Youri  Andrevich, 

261 


FAITH  BRANDON 

but  some  one  must  do  it,  so  he  took  a  glass  of  champagne 
and  braced  himself  for  the  occasion. 

"Zhenya  Vorotinsky  says  he  was  attache  for  three  years 
at  Washington,"  he  remarked,  apropos  of  nothing. 

"Hard  lines!"  said  Dovsprung,  dryly. 

"Oh,  they  came  near  being  too  pleasant,"  laughed  Rdt- 
miroff,  wondering  how  he  was  going  to  work  in  his  warning, 
for  really  he  had  no  story  to  tell.  "It  was  before  his  mar- 
riage, but  he  was  already  betrothed  you  know,  just  waiting 
for  promotion.  But  it  seems  they  have  no  regular  betrothals 
over  there,  and  they  treat  their  marriage  engagements  very 
lightly.  Girls,  especially,  break  their  engagements  as  they 
fancy,  and  they  do  not  seem  to  lose  caste  by  it.  An  American 
girl  seldom  marries  the  first  man  she  accepts  but  is  ready  to 
break  with  him  if  a  new  one  she  fancies  comes  along." 

"Well?"  asked  Dovsprung,  impatiently,  putting  up  his 
monocle  and  staring  the  ingenuous  Ratmiroff  out  of  coun- 
tenance. "How  did  that  affect  Evgeni  Vasilievich*  so 
pleasantly?" 

"Devil  take  Zhenya!  I  am  only  thinking  about  you, 
Yurochka,"  said  honest  Ratmiroff,  confusedly.  "You  are 
a  man  of  honor  and  you  respect  betrothal,  but  if  —  if  the  — 
the  other,  doesn't,  and  should  break  it  off,  why " 

Dovsprung  dropped  his  monocle.  "My  dear  Kolya,  I 
never  knew  you  to  tell  so  pointless  a  story,"  he  remarked, 
carelessly.  "That  last  glass  of  champagne  must  have  gone 
to  your  tongue.  When  you  can  recall  what  happened 
to  Vorotinsky,  I  am  ready  to  listen  to  you,  but  not  while 
you  talk  such  balderdash." 

"Yes,  I  may  be  a  little  drunk,"  admitted  Nikolay  Ark- 
adievich,  who  was  perfectly  sober  and  much  relieved  to 
get  off  so  easily.  After  all,  he  had  said  the  important  thing, 
and  to  a  wise  fellow  like  Yurochka  a  word  is  sufficient. 

Youri  Andrevich  danced  unremittingly  for  the  remainder 

*Eugene,  son  of  Basil,  pronounced  Yeff-gay-nee. 

262 


FIDES 

of  the  free  dances  and  was  his  usual  gay,  gallant  self,  but  at 
intervals  Kolya  Ratmiroff  s  warning  words  came  back 
to  disturb  him.  Truly,  it  had  not  seriously  occurred  to 
him  that  Fides  might  break  her  engagement  with  Solntsoff 
for  his  sake.  Now,  all  at  once  it  seemed  to  him  the 
most  probable  thing  in  the  world. 

Even  if  he  wished  to  marry  her,  it  would  gravely  affect 
his  reputation  as  a  man  of  honor  to  have  broken  up  a 
friend's  betrothal.  But  he  had  now  not  the  slightest  desire 
to  marry  her,  yet  he  would  be  forced  in  honor  to  do  so,  or 
would  lose  caste  still  more  seriously.  Solntsoff  probably 
foresaw  this  outcome  and  would  not  regret  it.  Perhaps  it 
was  with  design,  even,  that  he  had  permitted  his  betrothed 
to  receive  attentions  from  other  men  so  freely.  Dovsprung 
felt  that  both  had  dealt  falsely  with  him  and  that  he  need 
have  no  scruples  of  conduct  toward  either.  Of  course 
Fides  had  fallen  in  love  with  him,  —  every  one  saw  that. 
And  she  had  been  clever  enough  to  find  out  that  Lyeff 
Petrovich,  in  spite  of  his  rank  and  high  connections, 
was  a  poor  match.  Well,  she  must  be  made  to  understand 
at  once,  in  the  very  plainest  terms,  that  breaking  her  engage- 
ment was  not  to  be  dreamed  of,  that  it  would  be  social 
ostracism  for  them  both,  that  he  did  not  wish  it,  either  for 
his  own  sake  or  hers.  As  she  was  so  infatuated  with  him, 
there  might  be  tears  and  a  threatened  scene,  but  —  well, 
he  would  know  how  to  convince  her  of  his  love  and  devotion, 
and  console  her  with  the  possibility  of  a  future  happiness. 
But  there  was  not  a  moment  to  be  lost  in  making  her  com- 
prehend the  situation,  and  in  tenderly  persuading  her  to 
accept  the  only  possible  solution. 

Had  he  taken  time  for  reflection  he  might  have  come  to 
see  more  clearly,  his  better  nature  might  yet  have  triumphed, 
but  his  opportunity  came  that  very  night.  In  consequence 
of  a  slight  accident  to  the  dezhurny  kamerger*  Chamberlain 

*  i.e.,  Chamberlain  on  duty. 

263 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Prince  Solntsoff  was  detailed  just  before  the  close  of  the 
ball  to  attend  Grand  Duchess  Yevgenia  Ivanovna.  Dov- 
sprung  happened  to  be  waiting  on  Countess  Chernyatina 
at  supper,  when  her  brother  came  to  arrange  her  return 
home.  He  offered  at  once  to  accompany  the  ladies  in  his 
sledge  and  be  responsible  for  their  safe  arrival  at  the  palace. 
Lyeff  Petrovich  accepted  his  offer  with  cordial  gratitude, 
but  Natalia  Petrovna  showed  a  certain  reserve  which  in- 
creased Dovsprung's  irritation. 

"She  has  been  watching  me  as  a  cat  watches  a  mouse 
for  a  week  past,"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "but  I  shall  know 
how  to  outwit  her.  It  is  pity  she  is  so  changed.  I  can 
remember  when  she  was  a  very  attractive,  frank,  good- 
natured  young  woman,  and  now  she  is  as  narrow-minded, 
jealous  and  suspicious  as  any  old  maid." 

His  sledge  followed  that  of  the  ladies  closely  and,  when 
they  reached  the  Kliazemski  palace,  he  sprang  out  and 
helped  them  to  alight. 

The  big  Swiss*  in  his  laced  uniform  threw  open  the 
gates  and  they  passed  into  the  reception  room  bn  the 
rez  de  chaussee,  where  they  were  taking  off  their  furs,  when 
a  maid  came  down  in  some  excitement  to  speak  to  the 
countess,  who  hastily  excused  herself,  saying  that  one  of 
the  children  seemed  to  be  ill  and  she  must  go  at  once  to  the 
nursery. 

Faith  felt  a  sudden  embarrassment  at  finding  herself 
alone  with  Dovsprung.  She  knew  that  she  was  awkward 
and  blushing,  and  was  provoked  with  herself;  but  some- 
how he  seemed  different  to-night  from  what  he  had  ever  been 
before.  She  wondered  whether  she  ought  not  to  dismiss 
him  and  follow  the  countess,  and  she  remained  standing, 
undecided  what  to  do. 

Her  trepidation  and  confusion  were  quickly  observed  by 

The  uniformed  hall-porter  or  janitor  in  Russian  palaces  and  hotels 
is  called  "  the  Swiss." 

264 


FIDES 

her  companion,  who  believed  that  the  moment  had  come 
for  a  tender  explanation. 

"Ah,  Fides!  Fides!"  he  murmured,  with  melancholy 
earnestness.  "You,  too,  are  agitated.  Do  you  understand 
at  last?  Are  your  beautiful  eyes  opened  to  see  into  my 
troubled  heart  and  to  know  that  this  trouble  —  is  love?" 

Faith  stared  at  him,  too  astonished  at  first  to  find  words. 
Then  she  grew  more  embarrassed  than  ever.  What  did 
such  a  speech  mean  from  a  man  of  the  world  like  Dovsprung? 
She  was  so  inexperienced!  It  would  be  a  dreadful  blunder 
to  take  him  too  seriously.  He  was  a  flirt  and  perhaps 
thought  to  flatter  her  with  unmeaning  sentimentalities;  in 
that  case  she  would  wish  to  show  him  that  she  disliked  such 
silly  talk.  On  the  other  hand,  they  had  been  much  together 
of  late,  and  he  might  really  have  come  to  love  her,  hopelessly 
indeed,  yet  in  perfect  honor.  If  so  she  ought  to  be  very  sorry 
for  him  and  very,  very  kind  to  him. 

That  she  was  silent  and  confused,  that  she  did  not  at 
once  reject  him,  served  to  give  him  insolent  confidence. 
"Fides,  have  you  not  seen  that  I  loved  you  from  the  first 
moment  we  met?"  he  whispered,  eagerly.  "Ah,  do  not 
remind  me  that  you  are  betrothed.  My  God!  Do  I  ever 
forget  it?  Your  promise  is  given  to  another,  and  you  must 
fulfil  it  at  whatever  cost.  In  honor  I  cannot  ask,  for  your 
own  sake  you  cannot  do  otherwise.  But  love!  Love  and 
happiness!  Oh,  Fides,  is  it  necessary  you  should  be  de- 
prived of  these?"  . 

"I  —  I  don't  quite  understand  you,  Graf  von  Dovsprung," 
stammered  Faith.  His  manner,  though  tender,  was  still 
perfectly  reverential;  but  his  words  sounded  suspiciously 
like  an  insult,  as  if  he  were  saying,  "Marry  Solntsoff,  but 
accept  me  for  your  lover!"  Oh,  it  would  be  too  terrible 
to  suppose  that  he  meant  anything  like  that!  Could  it 
be  possible  that  he  fancied  her  in  love  with  himself?  Tears 
of  shame  and  anger  rushed  to  her  eyes.  "I  don't  under- 

265 


FAITH  BRANDON 

stand  you,"  she  repeated,  "and  I  think  you  do  not  under- 
stand me.  I  could  not  marry  without  love,  —  it  would  be 
a  false  loyalty  —  but  I  —  I " 

She  hesitated.  It  was  so  difficult  to  express  to  a 
stranger  the  depth  of  her  love  and  loyalty  to  her  be- 
trothed! 

He  smiled  cynically.  She  understood  him  well  enough. 
He  could  see  through  that  baby-faced  surprise  and  tearful 
hesitation.  She  was  evidently  on  the  verge  of  a  scene.  It 
must  be  averted,  and  the  situation  must  be  cleared  beyond 
any  possible  doubt. 

"There  is  but  one  disloyalty,"  he  replied,  his  glowing, 
brilliant  eyes  looking  full  into  her  timid,  inquiring  ones. 
"Be  loyal  to  love!  That  is  the  supreme  fidelity.  It  is  true 
that  you  will  have  to  marry  Solntsoff.  It  is  the  only  way 
out.  Anything  else  would  ruin  us  both  socially.  But, 
after  —  after  —  "  He  snatched  her  hand  and  pressed  it 
passionately  to  his  breast.  "Love  cannot  be  bound!  Only 
have  the  courage  to  love  as  your  heart  bids  you,  and  I  am 
your  slave  for  life." 

There  was  no  misunderstanding  him  now,  no  fear  of  mis- 
judging him!  She  started  back,  drawing  her  hand  hastily 
away  from  him.  Her  eyes,  still  gazing  into  his,  were  big 
with  astonishment  and  pain. 

"Why!  Why,  Graf  von  Dovsprung!"  she  stammered, 
slowly,  incredulously.  "This  cannot,  cannot  be  you!" 

He,  too,  had  started  back.  In  the  shock,  the  grief,  and 
the  distress  of  her  sweet  face  he  saw  unmistakably  revealed 
all  her  innocence  and  truth. 

For  one  moment  Dovsp rung's  only  feeling  was  an 
insane  joy,  a  wild  triumph!  His  lost  ideal  was  found 
again!  This  was  the  vanished  Backfischly!  Fides,  who  was 
dead,  was  now  alive  again!  He  felt  as  if  he  must  shout 
it  aloud  in  mad  rejoicing.  Fides,  his  illusion,  was  a  living 
reality! 

266 


FIDES 

Then  a  slow,  benumbing  horror  crept  over  him.  He  had 
spoken  dishonoring  words  to  her!  To  Fides!  He  turned 
very  white,  dumb  with  sudden  agony. 

"Oh,  no,  no!  It  cannot  be  you,"  she  said  again,  very  low, 
in  a  half -dazed,  wondering  way.  "He  said  you  were  a  man 
of  honor,  that  I  could  trust  you.  I  liked  you  and  thought 
you  respected  me." 

"Fides!  God  knows  that  I  respect  you,  that  your  in- 
nocence is  sacred  to  me,"  he  exclaimed,  hoarsely,  finding 
words  at  last.  "  Do  you  think  I  could  harm  a  hair  of  your 
head?  Why,  Backfischly,  I  would  not  permit  you  to  do 
wrong  even  if  it  were  possible  to  suppose  that  you  could 
wish  to  do  so." 

"Have  I  been  unjust!"  she  asked  in  puzzled,  half-apol- 
ogetic tone.  "Forgive  me,  but  what  else  could  I  think! 
What  would  you  have  thought  of  a  man  who  spoke  in  that 
way  to  your  betrothed,  to  your  little  sister?" 

And  as  he  stood  there  gazing  into  her  young  face  with 
its  great,  sad  eyes  and  quivering  lips,  so  sorrowful  and 
appealing,  so  shrinking  and  reproachful,  he  grew  paler  and 
paler  till  his  countenance  was  ghastly. 

"I  should  have  called  him  a  comtemptible  hound!"  he 
muttered  at  last.  "I  would  have  shot  him  dead!" 

He  bit  his  lips  and  turned  his  face  away.  "O  my  God! 
What  have  I  said!  What  have  I  done!"  he  groaned,  his 
head  bowed  down  in  an  anguish  of  regret.  "I  have  been 
blind,  blind,  blind!  And  I  thought  myself  a  man  of  honor! " 

What  apology,  what  explanation  could  he  make  to  this 
exquisite  child,  how  tell  her  that  he  had  indeed  thought 
she  could  find  consolation  in  sinful  love?  He  could  not  lift 
his  eyes  to  her  face. 

"Fides,  do  not  condemn  me!"  he  urged,  low  and  hur- 
riedly. "I  cannot  explain;  you  would  not  understand; 
but  it  was  a  mistake,  a  terrible  mistake !  Forget  my  words ; 
I  did  not  know!  I  —  I  am  not  a  good  man,  but  I  am  not 

267 


FAITH  BRANDON 

He  laughed  indulgently.  "I  can  imagine  you  must  have 
given  horrible  scandal!"  he  said,  ironically.  "The  weight 
on  your  conscience  must  be  something  appalling!"  But 
she  did  not  smile,  and  her  eyes  were  still  earnest  and  troubled. 

"What  do  you  do?"  she  repeated. 

He  grew  grave  at  once.  "If  it  is  something  definite  that 
you  can  beg  pardon  for,  I  would  do  so.  But  I  fancy  you 
mean  something  indefinite,  intangible,  that  it  would  be  worse 
to  explain  than  to  ignore.  In  that  case,  simply  try  to  correct 
the  impression  by  your  future  actions  and  words,  and  mean- 
time say  a  prayer  for  the  others  that  they  may  come  to  see 
it  differently.  Then  leave  their  souls  to  God  and  be  at 
peace." 

She  smiled  up  at  him.  "My  big,  best  friend!"  she  whis- 
pered, contentedly;  but  she  did  not  confide  in  him  the  cause 
of  her  troubled  inquiry,  nor  did  he  seek  to  learn  it  of  her. 

Going  to  her  room  a  moment  later  Faith  found  the 
countess  there. 

"I  told  your  Babette  not  to  sit  up,"  she  said.  "My 
Dunia  is  with  Alyosha,  who  is  sleeping  comfortably,  so  I 
will  be  your  maid." 

.  "You  are  all  so  good  to  me,"  sighed  Faith,  gratefully, 
"yet  you  must  often  think  me  very  unfit  to  be  Lyova's 
wife.  But  I  love  him  and  him  only,  with  all  my  heart  and 
soul,  if  that  is  any  recommendation  for  me." 

The  countess  looked  immensely  pleased  and  relieved. 
"That  is  a  very  important  point,  little  dove,"  she  replied 
affectionately.  "I  admit  I  was  a  bit  disappointed  at  first 
to  have  him  choose  a  mere  child,  not  of  our  race  or  religion, 
but  I  soon  saw  that  it  was  the  best  thing  that  ever  happened 
to  him." 
-,  "How  can  that  be?"  asked  Faith,  wonderingly. 

"It  has  softened  him  marvelously  to  watch  over  your 
mental  and  spiritual  development,  to  deal  tenderly  with 
your  youth  and  inexperience.  He  needed  just  that  soften- 

270 


FIDES 

ing.  The  defects  of  his  character  lay  in  a  certain  severity, 
impatience  and  self-sufficiency.  He  has  educated  and  im- 
proved himself  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  educating  you, 
and  he  knows  it." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Faith,  thoughtfully,  "he  is  really  happier 
in  helping  and  teaching  me,  than  if  I  had  come  to  him  ready- 
made,  with  all  the  virtues  and  graces?  " 

"I  think  so,  dear,"  said  the  sister,  pleasantly,  as  she 
unfastened  the  amber  gown  and  removed  the  ornaments 
from  neck  and  hair.  "It  is  his  nature  to  want  to  do  good, 
to  seek  activities  rather  than  rest.  He  is  eager  to  be  a 
true  and  helpful  friend  to  those  he  loves.  The  only 
fear  is  that  he  will  try  to  do  too  much,  and  not  leave 
you  liberty  enough.  You  may  find  him  a  bit  of  a  tender 
tyrant." 

"I  am  afraid  I  need  a  tyrant.  I  make  such  blunders," 
sighed  Faith.  She  hesitated  and  hung  her  head.  "Dear 
sister,  Natasha,"  she  said,  "you  caught  me  crying  and  must 
have  divined  something.  I  ought  to  explain." 

"I  guessed  that  Youri  Andrevich  had  somehow  off  ended 
you  and  I  feared  at  first  that  you  had  fallen  in  love  with  him 
and  were  unhappy." 

"I  am  afraid  he  thought  so,  too,"  said  Faith.  "I  don't 
know  what  I  have  done  to  give  you  all  that  impression. 
My  only  comfort  is  he  seemed  to  feel  so  sorry.  I  could  not 
be  angry,  for  he  humbled  himself  so  deeply  that  it  disarmed 
me  completely." 

"But,  Vyera,  if  Youri  loves  you  he  is  hardly  to  be  blamed 
for  making  an  effort  to  win  you.  Of  course,  betrothal  is 
a  very  serious  thing  and  not  easily  to  be  broken,  and  it  is 
not  considered  honorable  to  try  to  win  away  another  man's 
bride;  but,  after  all,  betrothal  vows  are  not  final,  like  those 
of  marriage.  You  are  still  free.  There  is  no  real  wrong 
in  it  if  he  wanted  you  to  marry  him." 

Faith  grew  scarlet  but  made  no  reply. 

271 


FAITH  BRANDON 

He  laughed  indulgently.  "I  can  imagine  you  must  have 
given  horrible  scandal!"  he  said,  ironically.  "The  weight 
on  your  conscience  must  be  something  appalling!"  But 
she  did  not  smile,  and  her  eyes  were  still  earnest  and  troubled. 

"What  do  you  do?"  she  repeated. 

He  grew  grave  at  once.  "If  it  is  something  definite  that 
you  can  beg  pardon  for,  I  would  do  so.  But  I  fancy  you 
mean  something  indefinite,  intangible,  that  it  would  be  worse 
to  explain  than  to  ignore.  In  that  case,  simply  try  to  correct 
the  impression  by  your  future  actions  and  words,  and  mean- 
tune  say  a  prayer  for  the  others  that  they  may  come  to  see 
it  differently.  Then  leave  their  souls  to  God  and  be  at 
peace." 

She  smiled  up  at  him.  "My  big,  best  friend!"  she  whis- 
pered, contentedly;  but  she  did  not  confide  in  him  the  cause 
of  her  troubled  inquiry,  nor  did  he  seek  to  learn  it  of  her. 

Going  to  her  room  a  moment  later  Faith  found  the 
countess  there. 

"I  told  your  Babette  not  to  sit  up,"  she  said.  "My 
Dunia  is  with  Alyosha,  who  is  sleeping  comfortably,  so  I 
will  be  your  maid." 

.  "You  are  all  so  good  to  me,"  sighed  Faith,  gratefully, 
"yet  you  must  often  think  me  very  unfit  to  be  Lyova's 
wife.  But  I  love  him  and  him  only,  with  all  my  heart  and 
soul,  if  that  is  any  recommendation  for  me." 

The  countess  looked  immensely  pleased  and  relieved. 
"That  is  a  very  important  point,  little  dove,"  she  replied 
affectionately.  "I  admit  I  was  a  bit  disappointed  at  first 
to  have  him  choose  a  mere  child,  not  of  our  race  or  religion, 
but  I  soon  saw  that  it  was  the  best  thing  that  ever  happened 
to  him." 

"How  can  that  be?"  asked  Faith,  wonderingly. 

"It  has  softened  him  marvelously  to  watch  over  your 
mental  and  spiritual  development,  to  deal  tenderly  with 
your  youth  and  inexperience.  He  needed  just  that  soften- 

270 


FIDES 

ing.  The  defects  of  his  character  lay  in  a  certain  severity, 
impatience  and  self-sufficiency.  He  has  educated  and  im- 
proved himself  at  the  same  time  that  he  is  educating  you, 
and  he  knows  it." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Faith,  thoughtfully,  "he  is  really  happier 
in  helping  and  teaching  me,  than  if  I  had  come  to  him  ready- 
made,  with  all  the  virtues  and  graces?" 

"I  think  so,  dear,"  said  the  sister,  pleasantly,  as  she 
unfastened  the  amber  gown  and  removed  the  ornaments 
from  neck  and  hair.  "It  is  his  nature  to  want  to  do  good, 
to  seek  activities  rather  than  rest.  He  is  eager  to  be  a 
true  and  helpful  friend  to  those  he  loves.  The  only 
fear  is  that  he  will  try  to  do  too  much,  and  not  leave 
you  liberty  enough.  You  may  find  him  a  bit  of  a  tender 
tyrant." 

"I  am  afraid  I  need  a  tyrant.  I  make  such  blunders," 
sighed  Faith.  She  hesitated  and  hung  her  head.  "Dear 
sister,  Natasha,"  she  said,  "you  caught  me  crying  and  must 
have  divined  something.  I  ought  to  explain." 

"I  guessed  that  Youri  Andre vich  had  somehow  offended 
you  and  I  feared  at  first  that  you  had  fallen  in  love  with  him 
and  were  unhappy." 

"I  am  afraid  he  thought  so,  too,"  said  Faith.  "I  don't 
know  what  I  have  done  to  give  you  all  that  impression. 
My  only  comfort  is  he  seemed  to  feel  so  sorry.  I  could  not 
be  angry,  for  he  humbled  himself  so  deeply  that  it  disarmed 
me  completely." 

"But,  Vyera,  if  Youri  loves  you  he  is  hardly  to  be  blamed 
for  making  an  effort  to  win  you.  Of  course,  betrothal  is 
a  very  serious  thing  and  not  easily  to  be  broken,  and  it  is 
not  considered  honorable  to  try  to  win  away  another  man's 
bride;  but,  after  all,  betrothal  vows  are  not  final,  like  those 
of  marriage.  You  are  still  free.  There  is  no  real  wrong 
in  it  if  he  wanted  you  to  marry  him." 

Faith  grew  scarlet  but  made  no  reply. 

271 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"Vyera,"  cried  the  countess,  with  sudden  suspicion, 
"tell  me  all!  As  your  sister,  your  hostess  and  matron,  I 
ought  to  know  all." 

"He  did  not  ask  me  to  marry  him,"  said  Faith  in 
a  low,  shamed  voice.  "He  wanted  me  just  —  to  love 
him." 

Natalia  Petrovna  turned  pale.  "Vyera,  what  do  you 
mean?"  she  cried,  faintly.  "Youri  Andrevich  is  —  is  — 
incapable"  —  she  almost  choked.  "Oh,  no!  no!  He  is 
not  so  bad  as  that!  It  is  a  mistake! " 

"That  is  what  he,  too,  said,"  explained  Faith,  distressed. 
"But  how  was  I  to  know?  I  have  bungled  it  dreadfully, 
somehow!  I  suppose  he  fancied,  just  as  you  did,  that  I 
was  in  love  with  him  and  ready  to  break  my  engagement 
for  his  sake.  He  said  I  must  keep  my  word  and  marry 
Lyova,  and  then,  he  thought  it  would  console  me  —  to 
say,  we  could  love  —  after " 

Natalia  Petrovna  burst  into  tears.  "Little  Vyera,"  she 
sobbed,  "to  think  that  you,  Lyova's  darling,  and  a  little 
motherless  stranger,  should  have  been  so  insulted  —  in 
our  house  —  in  our  Russian  home  —  by  a  friend  whom 
we  all  trusted!  We  knew  he  was  not  a  man  of  principle 
in  certain  ways,  but  we  never,  never  dreamed  —  we  had 
known  so  many  instances  of  his  knightly  chivalry  toward 
the  young  and  the  thoughtless  that  we  never  supposed  — 
Oh,  Vyera,  forgive  us  for  protecting  you  so  poorly!  We  have 
loved  him  all  our  lives;  he  was  like  a  brother  in  our  child- 
hood; but  he  shall  never,  never  show  his  face  among  us 
again!" 

"But,"  hesitated  Faith,  "I  have  asked  him  to  come, 
and  he  said  he  would." 

"Come  to  this  house,  where  he  has  defied  the  laws  of 
hospitality  and  friendship?" 

"Oh,"  pleaded  Faith,  "I  do  not  wish  him  to  know  that 
I  told!  Neither  Lyova  nor  your  uncle  must  suspect!  I 

272 


FIDES 

had  to  tell  you,  for  I  am  your  guest  and  you  saw  me  in 
trouble,  but  can  it  not  be  our  secret?  " 

"Of  course,  dear  heart!  Your  confidence  shall  be  sacred 
to  me.  You  shall  have  your  way.  And,  indeed,  it  may  be 
the  best  way." 

Faith  put  her  arms  around  the  older  woman  and  tried 
to  comfort  her.  But  after  she  had  returned  to  her  own 
room  Natalia  Petrovna's  grief  and  wrath  broke  out  afresh. 
"He  dare  not  come!"  she  thought.  "Such  conduct  was 
nothing  short  of  damnable.  Yes,  that  is  the  only  word, 
—  damnable!  Holy  Scripture  says  it  were  better  for  a  man 
that  a  millstone  were  hanged  round  his  neck  and  he  were 
drowned  in  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  than  that  he  scandalize 
the  innocent!  O,  Youri,  Youri!  Friend  of  our  childhood!" 

While  his  betrothed  and  his  sister  opened  their  hearts 
to  each  other,  Solntsoff  dismissed  his  sledge  and  with  his 
cloak  well  wrapped  about  him  walked  to  his  bachelor-rooms 
in  the  chill  of  the  early  morning  air.  He  was  gratified 
with  the  success  of  his  little  surprise  for  Faith,  and  the 
pleasant  light  deepened  in  his  blue  eyes  as  he  recalled  lier 
childish  joy  and  admiration. 

"I  wonder  what  her  little  scruple  is?"  he  mused.  "She 
reproaches  herself  for  something  said  or  done  in  the  innocence 
of  her  heart,  or,  perhaps,  some  bit  of  unkind  gossip  or  criti- 
cism has  come  to  her  ears  and  pained  her.  She  does  not 
tell  me  what  it  is;  she  is  fighting  her  little  battle  alone;  prob- 
ably for  fear  of  hurting  me  if  I  learn  that  she  has  had  any 
unpleasant  experience  in  our  Russian  society.  Poor  child! 
Society  is  much  the  same  all  the  world  over, —  a  little  more 
charm  and  polish  in  one  capital,  a  little  more  gayety  and 
glitter  in  another,  a  little  more  extravagance  and  ostenta- 
tion in  a  third,  but  everywhere  the  same  old  world,  flesh  and 
devil.  I  am  not  sorry  she  should  be  disenchanted,  though 
I  regret  that  anything  happened  to  spoil  her  enjoyment  of 
this  special  evening." 

273 


FAITH  BRANDON 

A  sudden  thought  struck  him.  He  stood  stock  still  and 
his  face  seemed  turned  to  stone.  His  hands  were  clenched 
tight. 

"  I  left  her  happy  at  the  hall, —  Youri  Andrevich  escorted 
her  home!" 

He  pulled  himself  together  with  an  effort  and  strode  on. 

"He  is  not  a  man  of  principle,  but  he  is  at  least  a  man  of 
honor,"  he  told  himself.  "He  would  not  break  his  code 
of  honor,  such  as  it  is,  with  me,  who  have  been  his  friend 
from  boyhood,  or  with  one  for  whom  he  has  such  romantic 
veneration  as  Vyera  Karlovna. 

"But  even  if  he  were  to  fail,"  he  continued,  throwing  back 
his  head  with  a  proud,  confident  smile,  "  I  should  not  know 
how  to  be  jealous!  If  he  has  offended  Vyera  in  any  way  I 
could  not  trust  myself  to  keep  from  his  throat.  There  would 
be  murder  in  my  heart  —  but  no  jealousy!  Youri  And- 
revich may  make  love  to  her  till  doomsday  and  it  will 
never  give  me  one  moment's  pang  or  anxiety.  I  know 
the  loyal,  loving  heart  of  her  in  whom  I  have  placed  my 
faith!" 


274 


CHAPTER  XDC 


REPARATION 

"I  ask  no  boon,  no  guerdon,  save  the  right 
To  give  my  love,  my  life,  myself  to  thee, 
To  love  thee  without  hope  of  love's  return  — 
To  walk  through  life  transfigured  by  the  light 
Of  the  pure  flame  that  in  my  heart  doth  burn, 
Ethereal,  pure,  exultant." 

—  Holmes. 

THREE  days  passed  and  Dovsprung  had  not  come  to 
the  palace  nor  did  Faith  meet  him  elsewhere,  for  she  availed 
herself  of  the  excuse  of  Alyosha's  slight  indisposition  to 
keep  quietly  at  home.  -Countess  Chernyatina  was  much  in 
the  nursery  and  Faith  sat  with  the  old  prince,  discussing 
the  newspapers  with  him  and  helping  him  to  entertain  the 
many  visitors  who  dropped  in  on  him  daily.  She  was  glad 
to  have  this  interest  and  diversion,  for  she  was  still  greatly 
agitated  by  her  experience  and  there  was  no  one  to  whom 
she  could  speak  of  it. 

"Natalia  Petrovna  is  already  so  sensitive  and  unhappy 
about  it;  and  I  cannot  tell  Lyova  or  the  old  prince,  for 
there  would  be  a  duel  and  the  wrong  one  would  be  shot! 
Oh,  dear!  What  had  I  done  to  make  Youri  Andrevich 
think  I  was  infatuated  with  him?  " 

But  her  conscience  absolved  her.  However  friendly  and 
pleasant  she  had  been  to  a  very  agreeable  and  accom- 
plished man,  there  was  nothing  but  his  own  vanity  and 
perverted  nature  that  could  misconstrue  anything  in  her 
past  manner.  None  of  the  other  men  with  whom  she  had 
been  on  equally  pleasant  terms  had  misunderstood  her  or 

275 


FAITH  BRANDON 

presumed  in  the  slightest  on  her  friendliness.  They  had 
been  wholly  gentlemanly  and  delightful. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  third  day  after  the  Mesetski  ball, 
Prince  Kliazemski  was  sitting  propped  up  in  the  armchair 
of  his  private  library  when  the  lackey  announced: 

"Colonel  Graf  von  Dovsprung  asks  to  see  your  Illustrious 
Highness  in  a  private  interview." 

"Certainly,  with  pleasure!  Show  him  in!"  said  the  sur- 
prised prince. 

A  moment  later  Dovsprung  entered,  a  fine,  dashing  figure 
in  his  picturesque  uniform  and  glittering  decorations.  He 
bowed  low.  The  old  prince  held  out  his  hand. 

"Welcome,  Yurochka,  how  are  you?"  he  said,  cordially. 

But  the  young  man  drew  back.  "I  am  not  sure  you  will 
wish  to  take  my  hand  when  you  know  my  errand,"  he 
said. 

"I  was  wondering  what  brought  you.  Now  I  wonder 
still  more." 

Dovsprung  bowed  again.  "I  have  come  to  present  myself 
as  a  suitor  for  the  hand  of  your  nephew's  betrothed!" 

"Indeed!"  remarked  the  old  man,  frowning.  "That  is 
certainly  a  surprising,  an  unusual  proceeding.  Among  men 
of  honor  —  and  you,  Graf,  are  a  man  of  honor  according 
to  the  world's  codes  —  it  is  not  customary  to  try  to  win  the 
bride  of  a  friend,  unless  indeed  you  have  strong  reasons  to 
believe  the  lady  desirous  of  being  so  won." 

"I  may  have  had  the  folly  to  think  so  for  a  moment,  but 
now  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  her  happy  in  her  engage- 
ment and  that  she  will  refuse  me." 

"I  confess  I  am  mystified,  Graf,"  and  the  old  prince  peered 
searchingly  into  the  young  man's  face.  It  looked  somewhat 
pale  and  drawn,  and  the  usually  bold,  brilliant  eyes  were 
clouded  and  full  of  embarrassment;  but  his  bearing  was  as 
ever  erect,  spirited,  elegant. 

"I  do  not  know  that  I  can  make  your  Highness  see  it  from 

276 


REPARATION 

my  point  of  view,"  he  said,  with  some  hesitancy,  "but  I 
will  try.  I  will  first  ask  you,  Vladimir  Pavlovich,  to  forget 
that  you  are  Lyova's  uncle,  and  remember  only  that  you 
are  the  young  lady's  host  and  temporary  guardian,  re- 
sponsible for  her  peace  of  mind  and  happiness  while  she  is 
your  guest."  He  paused  and  a  scarlet  flush  rose  in  his 
cheeks  and  brow. 

"I  was  deeply  attracted  by  Vyera  Karlovna  from  the 
first,"  Dovsprung  continued,  low  and  hurriedly.  "I  found 
interest  and  fascination  in  studying  the  heart  of  so  intelligent 
and  lovely  a  child,  and  I  wondered  at  the  strong  hold  she  had 
over  my  lawless  spirit.  For  a  time  I  was  wholly  true  to  my 
friendship  for  Lyeff  Petrovich  and  worshiped  her  as  some- 
thing quite  apart  from  ordinary  human  desires.  Then,  in 
an  evil  hour,  my  wretched  vanity  listened  to  false  tongues 
who  whispered  to  me  that  she  was  neither  as  young  nor  as 
unsophisticated  as  I  believed  her  to  be,  that  she  was  not 
indifferent  to  me,  that  she  was  playing  a  double  game  with 
Lyeff  Petrovich  and  myself.  I  believed  she  would  break 
with  him,  if  she  could  win  me.  I  did  not  wish  to  marry  her 
under  these  conditions  and  was  so  blinded  by  my  own  folly 
as  to  suppose  that,  if  she  could  not  win  me  as  a  husband, 
she  could  be  consoled  by  me  as  a  lover." 

"And  you  spoke  words  of  insult  to  that  child!"  thun- 
dered the  old  man,  half  rising  from  his  chair. 

"Oh,  my  God!"  groaned  Dovsprung,  mopping  his  brow. 

"When  and  where  was  it?"  demanded  the  prince,  hoarsely. 

"Here,  in  this  house,  the  night  after  the  Mesetski  ball." 

"In  my  home,  the  home  of  your  father's  friend,  who 
trusted  you?" 

"Believe  me,  Knyaz,"  said  the  younger  man,  brokenly, 
"I  had  no  deliberate  purpose  of  offending  against  hospitality 
and  honor.  I  thought  only  of  extricating  myself  from  a 
difficult  situation  for  which  I  held  Lyova  partly  to  blame; 
and  I  —  I  mistook  the  woman  I  was  dealing  with.  But 

277 


FAITH  BRANDON 

in  her  troubled  eyes  I  saw  in  a  flash  the  whole  hideousness 
of  my  proposal.  She  scarcely  understood  me,  but  she  feared 
the  truth  —  that  I  wished  her  to  marry  Lyova,  but  to  love 
me,  and  that  such  a  wish  was  an  insult.  Knyaz,  I  have  spent 
three  days  and  nights  of  agony!  I  have  seen  the  full  loath- 
someness of  my  conduct  as  it  must  appear  to  her  innocent 
eyes,  the  insult  to  her  womanhood,  the  treachery  to  my  friend, 
the  dishonor  to  myself,  the  sin  before  God,  the  whole  long 
list  of  past  transgressions  that  have  gradually  blinded  and 
perverted  my  judgment  till  I  could  fall  so  far  below  my  own 
poor  codes  of  honor,  such  as  they  were." 

"I  oppose  the  term ' honor '  to  that  of  'principle,' "  said  the 
old  man  sternly.  "I  recognize  no  honor  but  that  founded 
on  the  laws  of  God  and  man.  But,  I  can  see  in  your  face 
that  you  have  suffered.  Such  a  moral  awakening  is  indeed 
agony,  a  passing  through  death  to  the  light." 

"Had  it  not  been  the  act  of  a  coward  and  an  infidel,  I 
would  have  blown  out  my  miserable  brains.  But  I  think 
you  will  agree  with  me,  Vladimir  Pavlovich,  that,  for  her 
sake,  I  cannot  leave  the  matter  as  it  stands.  However 
despicable  I  may  appear  in  her  eyes,  still  no  young  girl  can 
be  happy  in  thinking  that  any  man  holds  her  in  light  esteem. 
No  explanation,  no  apology  would  suffice  to  remove  the 
impression  of  an  intended  insult.  The  only  way  to  convince 
her  of  my  respect  is  to  lay  my  life  and  all  that  I  have  at  her 
feet.  I  love  her  now  as  I  never  dreamed  I  could  love  any- 
thing on  earth.  If  I  must  choose  between  injuring  Lyeff 
Petrovich,  or  leaving  her  to  feel  insulted  and  unhappy,  then 
I  choose  to  injure  him.  Vladimir  Pavlovich,  I  beg  of  you, 
let  me  make  her  an  honorable  offer  of  marriage!  Let  me 
prove  to  her  my  honest  affection  and  veneration.  Then 
when  she  shall  have  refused  me,  I  stand  ready  to  offer  her 
betrothed  any  satisfaction  he  may  desire.  My  life  is  a  small 
thing  to  give,  if  he  requires  it." 

The  old  prince  stroked  his  beard  thoughtfully.    "I  do, 

278 


REPARATION 

indeed,  see  it  from  your  point  of  view,  Youri  AndreVich. 
We  must  think  only  of  her,  of  her  happiness  and  peace  of 
mind.  I  believe  you  are  right  in  feeling  that  she  would  be 
happier  if  she  could  be  assured  of  your  reverence,  of  the 
homage  of  a  man  to  the  woman  he  most  honors  and  loves. 
But,  Graf,  in  order  that  such  an  offer  should  not  be  an  act 
of  treachery  on  one  hand,  or  a  mere  mockery  on  the  other, 
it  is  necessary  that  her  betrothed  shall  consent  to  it  and 
shall  release  her  from  her  promise  to  him." 

Dovsprung  started  and  exclaimed,  "But  how  can  that  be? 
Lyova  will  never  do  that!" 

"Leave  it  to  me,  Graf.  I  shall  not  violate  your  con- 
fidence, but  my  nephew  will  trust  me  and  will  do  as  I  tell 
him  without  question.  Also,  if  your  proposal  is  to  be  more 
than  a  mere  empty  form,  I  must  ask  you  if  you  are  indeed 
in  a  position  to  present  yourself  as  a  suitor  for  her  hand. 
Youri  Andrevich,  as  before  Heaven,  are  there  no  entangle- 
ments, no  obstacles  that  stand  between  you  and  that  inno- 
cent girl?" 

"  Knyaz,  I  cannot  undo  the  past,  I  cannot  say  I  am  worthy 
where  I  know  myself  to  be  most  unworthy,  but  at  least  I 
am  free.  I  was  off  with  my  last  —  er  —  flirtation,  —  let 
me  call  it  so,  —  before  I  met  her,  and  since  that  time  have 
felt  an  aversion  to  such  pursuits  that  I  could  hardly  account 
for.  It  amazed  me  at  first  to  notice  it,  but  now  I  see  in  it 
the  leading  of  my  good  angel.  Upon  my  oath,  Knyaz, 
there  are  no  obstacles  to  an  honorable  and  a  happy  marriage." 

"And  the  future?  Can  you  be  a  faithful  husband?  Are 
not  flirtation  and  intrigue  second  nature  with  you?  There 
must  be  no  question  of  breaking  her  heart." 

Dovsprung  looked  steadily  into  the  old  man's  eyes. 

"  Even  if  she  reject  me,  Knyaz,  the  future  shall  be  different 
from  the  past.  In  these  hours  of  mental  anguish  I  have 
taken  my  resolves." 

"And  you  can  provide  for  her?    You  have  no  debts? 

279 


FAITH  BRANDON 

You  know  that  she  has  practically  no  dowry  —  only  a  few 
hundred  rubles  of  pocket  money?" 

"I  have  no  debts,"  he  replied.  "I  have  had  some  ex- 
travagances, I  have  gambled  in  moderation,  but  I  have 
always  managed  to  live  within  my  income.  I  have  done 
well  with  my  estate.  I  can  make  a  fair  settlement  upon 
her." 

"And  you  are  prepared  to  make  your  offer  at  once?" 

"At  once!    I  put  myself  at  your  Highness's  disposal." 

The  prince  touched  an  electric  bell  at  his  side,  and  in  a 
moment  a  footman  appeared  at  the  door. 
!      "Has  Knyaz  Lyeff  Petrovich  come  in?  " 

"Yes,  your  Highness.  His  Grace  is  with  the  ladies  in 
the  drawing-room." 

"Ask  him  to  come  to  me  at  once  on  important  busi- 
ness." 

In  another  moment  they  heard  a  light,  rapid  footstep 
crossing  the  ante-room,  the  door  opened  and  Solntsoff 
entered,  bowed  courteously  to  both  men  and  advanced 
cordially  to  embrace  Dovsprung. 

"Hold,  Lyova!"  called  the  uncle,  sharply,  "  I  have  some- 
thing to  say  to  you  first."  The  young  man  came  and  stood 
by  his  uncle's  chair,  bending  affectionately  over  him. 

"I  have  given  permission  to  Youri  Andrevich  to  make  an 
offer  of  marriage  to  the  young  lady  who  is  my  guest  and 
your  betrothed  bride!" 

Solntsoff  straightened  hinself  up  and  raised  his  eyebrows 
inquiringly.  He  did  not  as  much  as  glance  toward  Dov- 
sprung, who  stood  with  folded  arms,  impassive  as  a  statue. 
The  old  prince  laid  his  hand  on  his  nephew's. 

"  For  the  moment  I  take  the  place  of  a  father  to  the  young 
lady,  and  I  wish  her  to  be  perfectly  free  to  accept  or  reject 
this  offer.  Therefore,  it  is  necessary  that  you  should  re- 
lease her  from  her  promise  to  you,  otherwise  the  offer  would 
be  a  mere  mockery." 

280 


REPARATION 

"Never!"  exclaimed  Solntsoff.  "That  would  be  treating 
her  promise  to  me  as  a  mere  mockery." 

"Nevertheless,  as  her  guardian  I  ask  you  do  so." 

Solntsoff  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height.  There  was  a 
steely  glitter  in  his  blue  eyes,  and  the  mouth  looked  obstinate. 

"It  would  seem  to  be  testing  her  loyalty,  and  I  feel  that  it 
needs  no  test,"  he  replied,  proudly. 

"Trust  me,  Lyova!"  said  his  uncle,  gently.  "I  know  the 
circumstances  and  you  do  not.  If  you  believe  her  loyalty 
needs  no  test,  you  will  be  indifferent  to  going  through  this 
formality.  For  my  own  honor,  as  her  host  and  guardian, 
for  the  sake  of  her  possible  happiness  and  peace  of  mind, 
and  in  justice  to  a  man  who  is  trying  to  act  honorably  under 
difficult  circumstances,  I  again  ask  you  to  consent  to  his 
proposal  and  set  her  free." 

"Oh!"  replied  Solntsoff,  with  a  careless  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  "I  will  play  my  part  in  a  farce  if  it  will  oblige  you, 
my  Uncle.  But  understand,  it  is  for  your  sake  only.  I 
cannot  conceive  that  it  can  be  for  Vyera's  sake,  and,"  con- 
temptuously, "there  is  no  one  else  who  has  any  right  to  be 
considered." 

"There  is  no  one  who  claims  a  right  to  be  considered, 
Lyeff  Petrovich,"  said  Dovsprung  in  a  low,  firm  voice,  now 
speaking  for  the  first  time  since  Solntsoff 's  entrance.  "I 
do  not  ask  for  justice.  I  am  considering  her  alone.  After- 
ward it  will  be  your  right  to  deal  justice  to  me." 

Slowly,  unwillingly,  Solntsoff  turned  and  looked  at  his 
rival.  He  heard  the  voice  of  his  uncle  saying,  "This  is  no 
farce  in  which  I  ask  you  to  play  a  part.  It  is  more  nearly 
a  tragedy."  And  looking  into  the  gloomy,  passionate  eyes 
of  the  man  before  him,  from  whom  every  trace  of  his  usual 
gallant,  debonair  bearing  had  fled,  Solntsoff  began  to  feel 
that  this  was,  indeed,  something  more  than  the  piece  of 
unparalleled  effrontery  and  treachery  he  had  first  thought  it, 

"When  the  scene  is  over,  it  may  yet  turn  into  a  tragedy," 

281 


FAITH  BRANDON 

said  Dovsprung.  "Lyeff  Petrovich,  I  said  to  your  uncle 
and  I  repeat  to  you  —  I  stand  ready  to  give  you  every 
^satisfaction." 

Solntsoff  crossed  over  to  the  fire  and,  leaning  against  the 
mantel,  stood  for  a  moment  in  deep  thought.  Then  he  said, 
slowly,  "I  am  absolutely  in  the  dark.  I  cannot  express  a 
judgment.  I  cannot  follow  my  first  impulse,  for  my  uncle 
speaks  of  his  own  honor,  and  of  consideration  for  one  I  love. 
Let  my  uncle,  then,  decide  my  course  toward  you,  and  let 
Vyera  Karlovna  decide  for  her  own  happiness.  I  place  my- 
self unreservedly  in  their  hands." 

"We  will  send  for  Vyera  Karlovna  and  have  this  over  at 
once,"  said  the  old  prince,  and  his  voice  sounded  weak  and 
tired. 

Solntsoff  hurried  to  his  side.  "This  is  too  much  for  you, 
Uncle.  Let  Youri  Andrevich  see  Vyera  in  the  drawing- 
room,  or  my  sister's  salon." 

"No,  no!  I  wish  it  here,"  said  the  old  prince,  testily. 
"I  am  the  only  one  who  can  explain  it  to  her." 

Solntsoff  poured  out  a  little  stimulant  for  his  uncle,  who 
soon  revived  and  apologized  for  the  infirmities  of  his  age. 

"My  presence  at  least  is  not  necessary,"  said  Solntsoff, 
as  they  heard  Faith's  step  approaching.  "I  can  be  spared 
this  scene." 

"I  beg  you  will  stay.  Believe  me,  it  is  best,"  cried 
Dovsprung,  hastily. 

Faith  pushed  open  the  door  and  peeped  in.  She  was 
always  pleased  when  Prince  Kliazemski  sent  for  her,  and 
was  looking  forward  to  a  pleasant  hour  of  his  wise,  humorous 
conversation.  What  she  saw  startled  her. 

Opposite  the  door  stood  the  superb  figure  of  Graf  von 
Dovsprung  in  the  magnificence  of  white  and  scarlet  uniform, 
sable  furs  and  numerous  decorations.  To  the  left,  stretched 
on  his  reclining  chair,  wrapped  in  his  velvet,  fur-trimmed  robe, 
lay  the  old  prince  looking  pale  and  agitated.  Far  to  the 

282 


REPARATION 

right,  by  the  fireplace,  stood  Lyeff  Petrovich,  in  his  plain, 
civilian  clothes,  trying  with  all  his  might  to  look  indifferent, 
but  succeeding  only  in  looking  cross  and  restless.  She 
felt  that  something  serious  was  before  her.  Was  it  possible 
that  Youri  Andrevich  had  been  misrepresenting  her  in  some 
way  to  these  noble  men?  Her  heart  began  to  beat  in  hot 
indignation,  her  lips  to  curl  proudly. 

"Come  here,  my  child,"  said  the  invalid  gently,  and  she 
stood  by  his  chair,  while  he  took  her  hand  kindly  in  his. 

"The  Count  von  Dovsprung,  Vyera,  has  come  to  me,  very 
openly  and  honorably,  to  ask  permission  to  make  you  an 
offer  of  marriage."  Faith  started  and  grew  pale.  "I  am 
convinced  that  he  loves  and  honors  you  with  great  sincerity 
and  disinterested  devotion,  and  that  he  will  make  you  a 
faithful  and  adoring  husband.  I  wish  you  to  be  perfectly 
free  to  consider  his  offer  in  good  faith,  and  have  therefore 
asked  your  betrothed  to  release  you  from  the  promises  of 
marriage  you  have  made  him,  which  he  loves  you  gener- 
ously enough  to  do  without  reserve." 

Faith  gave  a  little  exclamation  and  looked  over  at  Soln- 
tsoff ;  but  he  evaded  her  eye,  and,  drawing  her  ring  from  off 
his  finger,  laid  it  on  the  centre  table.  It  seemed  to  Faith  as  if 
the  world  was  coming  to  an  end.  Her  Prince,  her  "Fair- 
Sun,"  releasing  her  from  her  engagement!  Lyova  giving 
her  back  her  betrothal  ring!  She  wanted  to  rush  to  him 
and  throw  herself  in  his  arms,  but  delicacy  and  a  feeling  of 
consideration  for  Dovsprung  kept  her  back. 

"Speak  for  yourself,  Youri  Andrevich!"  said  the  prince. 

Dovsprung  came  and  stood  before  her.  "I  need  not 
tell  you,  Fides,"  he  said,  in  low  tones  thrilled  with  emotion, 
"  that  it  has  been  a  struggle  between  my  overwhelming  love 
for  you,  the  most  sacred  and  exalted  feeling  of  my  whole  life, 
and  my  debt  of  friendship  to  the  noble,  splendid  fellow  you 
are  —  were  engaged  to.  If  I  have  taken  a  step  that  must 
pain  him  and  seem  to  the  world  dishonorable,  it  is  because 

283 


FAITH  BRANDON 

I  wish  that  he,  as  well  as  you,  should  know  that  the  feeling 
you  have  inspired  me  with  has  made  a  changed  man  of  me. 
Your  eyes  have  looked  into  the  darkest  depths  of  my  soul, 
and  in  the  light  of  their  pure  glance  I  see  myself  as  I  never 
did  before.  I  have  much  to  redeem  in  my  life  to  make  it 
grow  toward  those  ideals  which  you  revere;  but,  if  you  could 
love  me,  Fides,  if  you  would  be  my  wife,  God  knows  how 
passionately  and  faithfully  I  would  cherish  you.  If  you 
reject  me,  I  can  only  realize  my  unworthiness,  and  try  to 
make  my  future  measure  up  to  the  height  of  the  love  and 
reverence  I  bear  you." 

Faith  listened  to  him,  gazing  into  his  face  with  eager, 
glowing  eyes.  Oh,  thank  God!  All  was  right  again!  His 
love  was  no  longer  an  insult  to  her  and  a  shame  to  himself, 
it  was  now  a  love  that  honored  them  both,  a  love  that 
promised  to  redeem  him  from  an  unworthy  past,  a  love  that 
was  the  most  beautiful  homage  that  a  man  could  pay  or  a 
woman  desire,  since  it  was  the  redemption  of  his  unbelieving 
soul  through  reverence  for  her  purity  and  truth.  Oh,  thank 
God  for  His  mercy  to  them  both! 

"Vyera,"  said  the  old  prince,  with  great  seriousness. 
"You  have  a  choice  to  make,  and  one  that  will  be  painful 
to  your  gentle  heart.  For  both  of  these  men  love  you, 
yet  only  one  can  be  made  happy  by  you.  The  other  must 
take  from  your  hand  the  bitter  cup  of  disappointment  and 
life-long  sorrow.  I  say  life-long,  for  they  are  neither  of  them 
impulsive  boys,  carried  away  by  youthful  passion,  but  are 
mature,  strong,  experienced  men,  who  from  their  natures 
must  love  strongly  and  constantly.  Whichever  way, 
then,  you  decide,  one  of  the  two  must  suffer.  The  only 
point  for  you  to  consider  in  making  your  choice  is  your  own 
future  good.  Give  yourself  to  the  one  at  whose  side  you 
can  best  meet  the  joys,  and  sorrows  of  married  life,  the  one 
who  is  best  fitted  to  guide  you  in  its  duties  and  trials." 

Only  one  idea  filled  Faith's  mind,  —  how  to  make  her 

284 


REPARATION 

rejection  of  Youri  Andrevich  as  easy  as  possible  to  him,  to 
spare  him  pain,  to  assure  him  that  she  appreciated  the  mo- 
tives that  had  urged  him  to  make  her  this  offer,  that  she 
pardoned  and  understood  him  and  was  grateful  for  his 
homage  to  her  womanhood.  With  tenderly  smiling  face, 
with  glistening  eyes  and  outstretched  hands,  she  stepped 
eagerly  toward  von  Dovsprung. 

On  two  of  the  men  the  effect  of  her  movement  was  like 
an  electric  shock.  The  old  prince  looked  thunderstruck. 
He  sat  up  and  grasped  the  arm  of  his  chair,  while  his  breath 
came  and  went  hard. 

Lyeff  Petrovich  turned  yellow.  Something  clutched  at 
his  very  vitals,  he  grew  cold,  his  head  reeled,  he  felt  a  deadly 
nausea,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  room  went  round  and  round 
with  him.  He  grasped  the  mantel  for  support  and  stared 
starkly  at  the  two  figures  in  the  centre  of  the  floor. 

But  the  third  man  made  no  mistake.  He  knew  why  the 
tenderhearted  girl  came  to  him  first,  and  what  she  would 
have  to  say  to  him.  He  advanced  to  meet  her. 

She  spoke  to  him  with  bent  head  and  very  softly,  for  what 
she  had  to  say  was  for  him  alone.  He  had  to  stoop  to  catch 
her  half-whispered  words. 

"I  want  you  to  know  that  I  understand,  that  I  am  very, 
very  grateful  to  you  for  speaking  in  this  way  to  me  to-day, 
and  very,  very  thankful  that  your  feeling  for  me  is  no  longer 
a  temptation,  but  a  help  and  an  inspiration  to  you.  I  shall 
be  happier  all  my  life  for  knowing  this.  It  seems  very 
beautiful  to  me  that  it  is  so,  and  I  thank  God  for  it,  and  beg 
Him  to  bless  you  and  make  you  happy  in  some  other,  better 
way  than  what  you  ask  for,  but  which  you  know  cannot  be." 

"Fides,"  he  said,  low  and  hurriedly,  "you  have  under- 
stood me.  You  have  seen  all  the  vileness  of  my  heart. 
You  know  that  your  life  was  not  meant  to  mate  with  such  as 
mine.  You  have  ever  clung  to  one  who  is  worthier  of  you. 
You  are  right]  On  my  wretched  life  hangs  a  heavy  cloud 

285 


FAITH  BRANDON 

of  blackness  and  shame  and  treason.  I  thought  I  was 
serving  my  country,  and  I  was  only  serving  my  selfish 
interests.  I  dared  call  myself  a  Christian,  and  I  have  been 
crucifying  my  Saviour.  I  believed  myself  a  man  of  chivalry 
and  honor,  a  respecter  of  all  that  was  holy  and  innocent, 
but  I  have  scandalized  one  of  God's  little  ones,  and 
it  were  better  for  me  that  I  were  drowned  in  the  depths  of 
the  sea!"  His  head  dropped  to  his  breast  with  anguish. 
Then  he  raised  it  again  and  leaned  imploringly  toward 
her. 

"  Fides,  will  not  you  assure  me  that  your  life  has  not  been 
embittered,  nor  your  spirit  prejudiced  by  my  offences? 
Do  not  judge  beloved  Russia  by  this  her  unworthy  son. 
Remember  only  that  your  betrothed  is  also  her  child! 
Do  not  condemn  my  Mother  Church  because  I  have  been 
a  traitor.  Remember  only  that  the  Divine  Christ  was 
none  the  less  divine  though  there  was  a  Judas  among  his 
apostles.  May  God  accept  my  miserable  life  in  payment 
for  all  its  treacheries!" 

"Oh,  do  not  call  yourself  a  Judas,  Youri  Andre vich!" 
interrupted  Faith.  "Oh,  no!  No!  Say  rather,  a  Prodigal 
Son  —  a  prodigal,  indeed,  but  yet  a  son,  who  has  come  back, 
repentant,  to  his  Father's  home!" 

"  You  can  so  care  what  becomes  of  me,  Fides?  You,  who 
know  me  as  I  truly  am,  you,  whom  I  have  so  offended?  You 
do  not  utterly  condemn  me?  You  believe  I  can  redeem 
myself?" 

"How  can  I  not  care?  How  can  I  forget  God's  mercy 
to  us  both,  and  how  nobly  your  heart  and  your  conscience 
have  responded  to  His  voice!  All  you  have  said  and  done 
to-day  has  made  you  very  dear  to  me.  I  shall  always  care 
what  becomes  of  you,  and  shall  never  forget."  Uncon- 
sciously she  raised  her  voice  in  her  earnestness.  "I  do 
believe  in  you,  I  do  hope  for  your  redemption!  You  have 
my  love  and  confidence  forever." 

286 


REPARATION 

Impulsively,  she  placed  her  hands  in  his.  He  threw  him- 
self on  his  knees  before  her. 

"May  God  forever  bless  you  for  your  goodness  to  me, 
Fides!"  he  exclaimed,  holding  her  hands  tightly  clasped 
against  his  breast,  "to  me,  most  unworthy  but,  Heaven 
knows,  most  grateful!" 

His  eager  words  rang  through  the  quiet  room  and  struck 
as  with  a  bolt  the  hearts  of  the  two  men  intently  listening. 

There  was  a  moment's  hush,  a  stillness,  breathless,  tense. 
Then  without  cry  or  warning  came  the  sound  of  a  heavy  fall. 

Lyeff  Petrovich  lay  stretched  at  length  upon  the  floor, 
white,  senseless,  motionless. 


287 


CHAPTER  XX 

ST.   GEORGE  THE  VICTORIOUS 

"  He  shall  never  again,  though  he  wander  by  many  a  stream, 
No,  never  again  shall  he  meet  with  a  flower  that  shall  seem 

So  sweet  and  pure,  and  forever  in  after  years 
At  the  thought  of  its  bloom,  or  the  fragrance  of  its  breath, 

The  past  shall  arise  — 

And  his  eyes  shall  be  dim  with  tears, 
And  his  soul  shall  be  far  in  the  gardens  of  Paradise  — 

Though  he  stand  in  the  shambles  of  Death!" 

IT  is  a  long,  slow,  uncertain  journey  back  from  the  land 
of  oblivion.  One  does  not  awaken  in  a  moment  to  conscious- 
ness and  power  of  movement,  as  from  sleep.  Into  the  heavy, 
motionless  body  the  mind  slowly  gropes  its  way  back,  finding 
its  bearings  with  difficulty.  From  a  vast  distance,  through 
a  dark,  thick  atmosphere,  there  came  to.  the  dulled  brain  of 
the  man  who  lay  still  and  white,  with  closed  eyes,  upon  the 
couch,  the  vague,  dreamy  recognition  of  a  human  voice  saying 
somewhere,  to  somebody,  many  miles  away: 

"He  is  coming  to,  nicely." 

Solntsoff  heard  the  voice,  but  it  left  him  indifferent. 
Sometime,  perhaps,  he  might  be  interested  to  know  what 
had  occurred,  but  just  at  present  he  would  like  to  sleep. 
What  were  they  doing  to  him?  It  could  not  be  that  he  was 
in  church,  yet  there  was  chanting  and  lights,  people  were 
moving  about  him  and  touching  him.  If  it  were  not  too 
much  trouble,  he  would  open  his  eyes  to  see  what  they  were 
about.  At  any  rate  he  would  ask  them  not  to  disturb  him. 
With  a  huge  effort  he  lifted  up  his  voice  and  called  out 
peremptorily,  "Let  me  alone!  I  am  all  right!" 

"His  lips  are  moving;  he  is  trying  to  speak,"  said  the 

288 


ST.  GEORGE  THE  VICTORIOUS 

voice  he  had  heard  before,  but  this  time  it  was  so  close  to  his 
side,  so  strong  and  distinct,  that  it  almost  made  him  jump. 
Then  he  became  angry. 

"They  must  be  deaf,  if  they  did  not  hear  me,"  he  thought. 
"I  fairly  shouted.  They  ought  to  listen  more  attentively. 
I  will  tell  them  so  after  a  while. " 

The  chanting  had  ceased,  the  lights  were  gone.  He  felt 
gentle  fingers  stroking  his  head,  tender  arms  clinging  about 
his  neck.  This  was  very,  very  pleasant.  It  did  not  dis- 
turb him  in  the  least. 

"His  pulse  is  fine.  He  is  quite  himself  again.  You  may 
speak  to  him  now,"  said  the  voice  he  had  heard  before, 
which  he  this  time  recognized  as  that  of  the  family  physician. 

"My  soul!  My  golden  one!  My  Prince  Fair-Sun!"  mur- 
mured in  his  ear  a  sweet,  low  voice  that  was  very  soothing 
and  dear,  though  he  could  not  for  the  moment  think  to  whom 
it  belonged.  "My  darling  Levochka,  it  was  all  a  mistake! 
I  am  your  own,  loving  little  Vyera,  your  own  betrothed, 
all  your  own  for  always.  It  was  not  as  you  feared,  not  for  an 
instant!" 

He  smiled.  He  knew  now  that  this  was  Faith,  her  sweet 
voice,  her  tender  touch.  He  could  not  recall  what  mistake 
she  referred  to,  but  he  would  not  bother  to  remember.  He 
was  too  lazily  content! 

The  physician  left  them  to  Natalia  Petrovna's  care  and 
passed  into  the  adjoining  room,  where  were  two  other 
figures  —  a  desolate,  half-palsied  old  man,  lying  trembling 
and  weak  in  his  reclining  chair,  and  a  younger  man,  in  bril- 
liant uniform,  sitting  by  the  table,  his  glossy  brown  head 
bowed  in  deepest  trouble  on  bis  crossed  arms. 

"He  is  perfectly  conscious  now,"  said  the  doctor  cheerily. 
"He  knows  her  and  is  happy  and  satisfied.  In  about  ten 
minutes  more  he  will  be  able  to  talk  to  you  all.  It  was 
rather  a  long  swoon,  and  there  were  a  few  moments  when  I 
feared  we  could  not  pull  him  through;  but  he  began  to  revive 

289 


FAITH  BRANDON 

just  as  the  priests  were  administering  the  Holy  Unctions. 
I  suppose  Heaven,  and  not  I,  will  get  all  the  credit! " 

"Heaven  blessed  your  efforts  and  they  were  no  worse  for 
the  blessing,"  said  the  old  prince,  adding  with  a  sigh,  "It 
is  so  hard  to  be  old  and  helpless  at  such  a  juncture. " 

"There  is  no  regular  organic  disease  of  the  heart,  only  a 
functional  disturbance  resulting  from  intense  emotion.  He 
will  be  as  well  as  usual  in  a  week  and  it  may  never  recur.  It 
was  fortunate,"  continued  the  physician,  turning  to  Dov- 
sprung,  who  had  lifted  his  head  and  was  listening  intently, 
"that  your  Excellency  was  present  to  take  charge  of  affairs. 
Your  prompt  action  did  much  to  insure  his  recovery  and  to 
help  that  poor,  frightened  child.  She  is  a  good  nurse,  how- 
ever, and  did  wonderfully  well. " 

"I  owe  much  to  her, "  said  the  old  prince.  "In  the  midst 
of  her  grief  and  anxiety  about  her  lover  she  remembered  the 
poor  old  man,  and  ministered  to  me  most  tenderly. "  Then, 
as  the  doctor  left,  he  added,  "Youri  Andre vich,  I  have  not 
thanked  you,  for  I  knew  you  felt  it  a  privilege  to  serve  them. " 

"Fortunate!  My  presence  fortunate!"  groaned  Dov- 
sprung,  dropping  his  head  again  on  his  arms.  "It  was  the 
cause  of  the  whole  misfortune." 

"You  understood  her  gentle,  loyal  heart  better  than  any 
of  us,"  said  the  prince,  more  kindly  than  he  had  hitherto 
spoken.  "We  should  have  had  faith  in  her  constancy, 
even  against  the  evidence  of  our  senses. " 

"Why  is  it,"  queried  Dovsprung,  lifting  his  pale,  set 
face,  "  that  Providence  permits  it  that  my  evil  deeds  cause 
no  public  scandal  or  apparent  injury,  yet  when  I  come  to 
this  house  in  all  humility  and  rectitude  of  purpose,  desirous 
only  of  bringing  peace  and  atonement,  then  I  cause  nothing 
but  misunderstanding,  shock  and  pain,  a  whole  house- 
hold grief-stricken,  and  the  world  started  surmising  and 
gossiping?" 

"Do  not  be  distressed  about  gossioing  tongues,"  said  the 

290 


ST.  GEORGE  THE  VICTORIOUS 

wise  old  man.  "  The  world  will  soon  forget  to  talk  when  they 
see  the  couple  united  and  happy,  and  that  there  is  no  breach 
in  our  friendship  for  you. " 

"I  shall  not  disturb  you  long,"  said  the  younger  man. 
"I  have  applied  for  active  service  —  Mandzhurya  or  the 
Pri-Amur,  the  farther  off  the  better!" 

"You  will  give  up  your  brilliant  career  at  the  capital?" 
asked  the  prince,  eyeing  him  curiously. 

"Brilliant!"  echoed  Dovsprung,  bitterly,  while  a  spasm  of 
aversion  contracted  his  handsome  features.  "Aye,  brilliant 
I  suppose  it  has  been!  I  have  risen  rapidly  in  court  and 
official  life.  I  have  gained  coveted  honors  and  am  held  up 
as  a  model  because  I  have  taken  no  dishonest  advantage  of  my 
position.  I  have  served  the  world  well  and  been  served  well 
by  it  in  return.  But,  my  God!  at  what  cost  to  my  soul  has 
this  worldly  success  been  obtained?  I  have  even  forgotten 
that  I  had  a  soul  —  or  a  God,"  he  added. 

"Yes,  that  is  the  usual  price  of  worldliness  and  immor- 
ality," said  the  older  man,  sternly.  Then  he  added  more 
gently,  "At  least,  you  have  proved  that  you  have  a  con- 
science. It  has  been  a  perverted  one,  but  not  wholly  faith- 
less. You  have  not  feared  to  search  your  soul  in  the  light 
that  has  come  to  you.  You  will  be  a  nobler  man  for  it, 
and  though  the  love  you  craved  will  not  be  yours,  it  will 
bring  you  a  blessing. " 

Dovsprung  sighed  heavily.  "There  is  little  but  bitterness 
in  my  soul,"  he  said.  "The  moral  shock  I  have  suffered 
has  violently  turned  my  will  from  evil,  but  it  has  not  yet 
drawn  me  to  love  the  good.  It  has  deprived  me  of  earthly 
joys,  but  given  me  no  relish  for  heavenly  ones.  It  has 
filled  me  with  self-contempt  and  emptied  me  of  ambition,  of 
purpose,  of  arm  in  life.  It  will  be  a  bitter  struggle  to  learn 
to  live  for  an  object  other  than  myself."  He  rose  as 
Natalia  Petrovna  opened  the  door,  looking  anxiously  at 
her  uncle. 

291 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"I  am  selfish  as  ever,  burdening  your  saddened  heart 
with  my  complainings  and  remorse,"  apologized  Dovsprung, 
reddening  with  discomfiture.  "Your  Highness  has  shown 
an  almost  paternal  patience  with  me  and  I  have  abused  it. 
Forgive  me,  I  leave  you  at  once  to  rest." 

"Remember,  Youri  Andrevich,"  said  the  prince,  warn- 
ingly.  "It  is  best  that  you  should,  while  still  in  Peterburg, 
visit  us  as  usual.  You  will  now  have  a  warmer  welcome 
than  for  many  years  past." 

The  young  man  bowed  deeply,  then  glanced  furtively  at 
Natalia  Petrovna.  It  was  evident  that  she  did  not  sympa- 
thize with  her  uncle's  attitude.  She  was  silent,  and,  bowing 
again,  Dovsprung  passed  out. 

When  the  countess  had  seen  her  uncle  comfortably  dis- 
posed on  the  sofa  and  the  room  darkened,  she  came  out  into 
the  ante-room.  A  figure  waiting  there  stepped  forward  from 
the  shadow.  It  was  Dovsprung. 

She  stopped  short.  She  tried  hard  to  conceal  the  con- 
tempt and  disgust  she  felt  for  the  man,  but  their  traces 
were  only  too  plainly  visible  on  her  face.  If  a  Christian 
must  forgive,  then  she  was  no  Christian! 

"Natalia  Petrovna,"  he  began  in  a  low,  embarrassed  tone, 
so  different  from  his  usual  self-complacent  readiness  of 
speech.  "You  have  suspected  me  and  distrusted  me  from 
the  first.  I  was  conscious  of  it  and  it  irritated  me,  for  I 
believed  myself  the  soul  of  honor  and  chivalry.  But  you 
were  right!  You  cannot  condemn  me  more  severely 
than  I  condemn  myself.  I  leave  it  to  you  how  I  shall 
act.  Your  uncle  believes  it  will  be  a  wise  precaution 
against  possible  gossip  if  I  continue  to  come  here  during 
the  short  time  I  remain  in  the  capital.  But  you  and  your 
brother  will  feel  differently.  Lyeff  Petrovich  can  have 
nothing  but  murder  in  his  heart,  and  you  —  an  infinite 
contempt.  My  presence  would  be  an  offence  and  an  insult 
to  you  both." 

292 


ST.  GEORGE  THE  VICTORIOUS 

"Lyova  will  bow  to  the  judgment  of  his  uncle,"  said  the 
countess,  coldly.  "  As  for  me,  I  have  my  own  drawing-room 
and  your  visits  will  be  elsewhere.  I  do  not  deny,  Youri 
Andrevich,  that  I  regard  you  with  contempt,  not  so  much 
for  your  conduct  in  this  one  instance  as  for  your  despicable 
past,  which  has  been  but  the  prelude  to  it.  I  can  have 
no  charity  for  you." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause.  If  any  woman  in  the 
world  had  a  right  to  speak  frankly  to  him  it  was  she,  who 
had  known  him  from  childhood,  who  was  a  year  older  than 
himself,  who,  with  her  brothers,  had  been  the  companions  of 
his  sister  and  himself  in  their  youthful  studies  and  pursuits. 
She  had  known  him  in  the  bright  virtue  of  his  early  manhood, 
and  she  had  known  him  in  these  later  days,  depraved  by 
the  world  and  his  successes. 

"I  deserve  all  that  you  say,"  he  replied  at  last.  "I  can- 
not claim  your  charity.  I  have,  indeed,  been  a  sneak  and 
a  scoundrel." 

She  began  to  understand  how  the  man  had  disarmed 
Faith's  indignation,  and  how  her  uncle  could  forgive  him  and 
receive  him  again.  Her  tone  was  more  gentle  as  she  said, 
"At  least,  I  can  be  just;  I  know  that  you  have  done  your 
best  to  make  reparation  for  the  harm  you  would  have  done 
in  this  case.  Fortunately,  you  had  a  different  type  of 
woman  to  deal  with  than  has  hitherto  attracted  you.  But 
there  is  a  further  reparation  for  you  to  make,  Youri  Andre- 
vich, one  that  you  owe  to  yourself,  to  your  own  manhood. 
You  should  be  reconciled  to  God  and  seek  His  grace.  You 
should  go  to  confession." 

"I  have  already  done  so,"  he  said,  quietly. 

She  gave  a  start  of  surprise,  a  look  of  joy  flashed  into  her 
face,  the  tears  came  into  her  eyes.  "You  have  been  to 
confession?"  she  exclaimed. 

"Surely!"  he  replied.  "God  forgive  me  if  I  did  not  go 
from  the  highest  motives,  but  I  could  not  have  presumed 

293 


FAITH    BRANDON 

to  offer  myself  to  that  innocent  young  girl  until  my  guilty 
soul  had  been  shriven  of  its  most  shameful  sins." 

The  tears  rolled  down  Natalia  Petrovna's  cheeks. 

"  Yurochka ! "  she  cried,  "  Yurochka !  Dear  brother !  Dear 
old  comrade!  I  did  not  know  this,  or  you  should  never  have 
heard  a  harsh  word  from  my  lips!" 

"I  have  been  a  poor  soldier  of  the  Church-Militant,"  he 
said,  sadly.  "I  do  not  wonder  at  your  surprise.  I  have 
been  a  deserter  from  the  ranks,  but  I  have  come  to  see  the 
shame  and  cowardice  of  it,  and  I  knew  my  duty  —  I  have 
given  myself  up  and  been  court-martialed.  Only,"  he 
added  in  a  kind  of  reverent  wonder,  "instead  of  condemn- 
ing me  to  be  shot,  Mother  Church  pardons  and  restores!" 
and  there  was  the  sound  of  a  half  sob  in  his  voice. 

"They  do  not  shoot  deserters  in  the  army  of  heaven," 
said  Natalia  Petrovna,  with  deep  emotion.  "On  the 
contrary,  there  is  joy  among  the  angels  —  over  your  pen- 
ance" —  her  voice  broke. 

"It  is  too  soon  to  rejoice  over  me,"  he  interrupted.  "I 
am  not  a  religious  man  and  it  will  be  hard  to  make  me  one. 
I  have  confessed  because  it  was  my  duty  to  God,  to  myself, 
and  to  her,  but  I  do  not  know  if  God  will  accept  such  pen- 
ance as  mine.  An  innocent  girl  whom  I  adore  has  seen  the 
blackness  of  my  soul  and  has  shrunk  from  me;  my  repentance 
is  for  her  sake  more  than  for  the  sake  of  heaven! " 

"  God  will  not  despise  you  because  the  hand  of  a  woman 
leads  you  to  Him,"  said  Natalia  Petrovna,  earnestly.  "He 
makes  use  of  many  instruments." 

"Natasha!  Is  it  possible  you  have  such  kind  words  for 
me?  Is  it  possible  you  can  shed  tears  for  me?  Oh,  you 
good  women!  How  I  have  misunderstood  you  all.  I  have 
thought  you  cold  and  unsympathetic  because  you  did  not 
respond  to  our  un worthier  natures;  but  when  our  better 
nature  speaks,  then  you  are  all  tears  and  smiles  and  sisterly 
kindness  and  affection!" 

294 


ST.  GEORGE  THE  VICTORIOUS 

"'See  how  we  Christians  love  one  another,'"  quoted 
Natalia  Petrovna,  gently,  holding  out  her  hand  to  him. 
"Come  when  you  will,  Yurochka.  Our  house  shall  be  a 
second  home  to  you." 

"Natasha!"   he  murmured,   and  bowing  low  over  her 
hand,  pressed  his  lips  to  it  reverently,  and  withdrew. 
***** 

As  the  doctor  had  predicted,  it  was  fully  a  week  before 
Solntsoff  recovered  his  strength  sufficiently  to  go  about  his 
accustomed  work.  For  three  days  they  kept  him  in  bed, 
tenderly  nursed  by  Avdotia  Ilinichna  and  cheered  by  fre- 
quent visits  from  his  sister  and  Faith. 

He  was  lying  propped  up  on  pillows,  very  pale,  with 
dark  circles  under  his  eyes  and  with  colorless  lips,  when 
Faith  first  came  timidly  into  his  room,  where  Avdotia  sat 
discreetly  sewing. 

She  glanced  around.  What  a  contrast  to  his  simple  bach- 
elor apartment,  which  would  be  their  future  home,  was  this 
large,  stately  chamber,  with  its  rich  rugs,  beautifully  carved 
and  inlaid  tables  and  chairs,  the  luxurious  bed,  the  costly 
draperies,  the  enameled  and  jeweled  Ikons,  the  choice  engrav- 
ings and  exquisitely  decorated  walls  and  ceilings.  He  followed 
her  glance  and  laughed. 

"Eudoxie  and  my  uncle  spoil  me,"  he  said,  in  French. 
"You  saw  that  no  such  luxury  awaits  you  in  my  poor 
quarters." 

"Lyeff  Petrovich  deserves  the  best  we  can  give  him," 
said  Avdotia,  decidedly.  Like  most  confidential  servants 
in  the  households  of  the  old  Russian  nobility  she  understood 
a  little  French,  and  was  accustomed  to  being  treated  with 
consideration  and  taking  a  modest  part  in  the  family  con- 
versations. 

"He  certainly  does  deserve  the  best,"  agreed  Faith. 

"And  I  have  it!"  he  said,  slipping  his  hand  over 
hers. 

29S 


"I  have  not  explained  everything  to  you  yet,"  began 
Faith,  hesitatingly,  in  a  low  voice. 

"Explained?"  he  asked.  "What  need  is  there  for  expla- 
nation between  you  and  me,  Vyera?  I  know  that  you  still 
are  mine.  That  is  sufficient.  I  have  suffered  enough  for 
my  momentary  doubt." 

"But  I  want  you  to  understand  about  Youri  Andrevich!" 

"I  care  nothing  for  what  passed  between  you  and  him 
except  as  it  affects  your  happiness.  If  his  conduct  pleases 
you,  I  am  satisfied  and  wish  him  well.  If  he  has  offended 
you  in  the  past  but  is  now  restored  to  your  favor,  I  will  not 
ask  to  know  his  offence.  He  has  your  forgiveness  and 
esteem,  and  I,  too,  must  forgive  him,  and  will  try  to  esteem 
him.  You  cannot  expect  me,  however,  to  take  him  to  my 
heart  and  love  him  like  a  brother!" 

"But  that  is  just  what  I  want  you  to  do!"  she  said, 
anxiously. 

"My  dear  child,  that  is  not  in  human  nature.  Two  men 
cannot  love  and  passionately  desire  the  same  woman  and 
yet  continue  calmly  on  as  friends,  especially  where  one  has 
tried  to  win  away  the  other's  betrothed  in  defiance  of  all 
the  laws  of  honor  and  friendship  and  hospitality.  Faitn, 
I  have  the  conviction  that  if  I  knew  all  I  should  wish  to 
murder  him!  So  leave  me  in  my  ignorance!" 

"If  you  murdered  him,"  she  said,  in  pretended  dismay, 
"you  would  be  hanged  for  it,  and  I  should  have  neither  one 
nor  the  other  of  you!" 

"  Sensible  girl !  Keep  what  you  have  and  make  the  best  of 
it.  But  it  is  plain  to  be  seen  that  you  have  an  extraordinary 
influence  over  him.  The  poor  chap  adores  you,  and  since 
he  cannot  have  you  I  will  at  least  pity  him  and  try  to  treat 
him  generously.  I  can  afford  to  do  so,  you  make  me  so 
happy." 

"I  love  to  hear  you  say  that,"  cried  Faith.  "It  means 
so  much  to  me.  Goodness  knows,  I  have  brought  you 

296 


ST.  GEORGE  THE  VICTORIOUS 

trouble  enough.  Yet,  to  have  the  sweetness  of  feeling  that, 
in  spite  of  everything,  I  can  make  you  happy!  I  do  not 
know  how  I  do  it,  but  it  is  ail  the  sweeter  that  there  is  no 
conscious  effort  on  my  part." 

"When  you  know  me  better,"  he  sighed,  "and  begin  to 
suffer  from  my  many  faults,  I  am  afraid  there  will  have  to  be 
a  good  many  conscious  efforts  on  my  part  before  I  can  make 
you  happy." 

"You  are  talking  foolishly,  which  is  a  sign  that  you  are 
tired.  I  must  leave  you  to  rest,"  she  laughed,  drawing  away 
from  him. 

"Listen,  Faith!  If  you  have  any  more  lovers  in  the  back- 
ground who  will  be  convenienced  by  a  temporary  rupture 
of  our  engagement,  please,  I  beg  of  you,  prepare  me  before- 
hand for  what  you  will  say  and  do." 

"There  are  no  others,"  she  replied.  "Dovsprung  is 
unique!" 

"Unique!"  he  echoed.    "It  is  indeed  to  be  hoped  there 
are  not  many  who  follow  his  methods." 
***** 

On  the  fourth  day  Solntsoff  was  moved  into  the  library, 
where  he  sat,  half-lying,  half-upright,  in  the  corner  of  the 
sofa.  He  was  still  pale,  but  there  was  a  look  of  deep  con- 
tent in  his  quiet  eyes.  Natalia  and  Faith  sat  near  him,  and 
little  Alyosha,  now  quite  well,  was  reading  aloud  from  his 
book  of  Kryloff's  Fables,  when  Prince  Kliazemski  came  in 
from  the  adjoining  room,  leaning  on  Dovsprung's  arm. 

"I  am  bringing  a  friend  to  bid  you  good-bye,"  he  said. 
"Youri  Andrevich  starts  to-morrow  for  the  Pri-Amur." 

Natalia  Petrovna  rose  hastily,  took  Alvosha  by  the  hand 
and  led  him  out  of  the  room. 

It  was  the  first  time  the  two  young  men  had  met  since  the 
eventful  scene  in  the  same  room  four  days  earlier.  They 
looked  at  each  other  steadily  a  moment,  then  Solntsoff 
spoke  cheerfully. 

297 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"Come  here,  Yurochka!  I  did  not  do  justice  either  to 
you  or  to  my  promised  wife,  and  I  have  given  you  both  a 
great  fright  and  trouble  about  me.  But  I  know  better  now," 
and  he  held  out  his  hand. 

Dovsprung  crossed  the  room  and  stood  by  the  sofa.  He 
was  white  and  agitated,  his  lips  and  hands  trembling  UH- 
controllably.  Then  he  sank  on  one  knee  by  Solntsoff 's  side. 

"You  do  not  understand  all  yet,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "or 
you  would  shoot  me  down  before  you  offered  me  your  hand." 

"Say  no  more!"  interrupted  Solntsoff,  hastily.  "I  par- 
ticularly wish  not  to  understand  all.  That  lies  between  you 
and  Vyera  Karlovna.  Whom  she  pardons  and  trusts,  I, 
too,  will  pardon  and  trust.  Embrace  me,  Brother!" 

The  tears  were  streaming  down  Dovsprung's  white  cheeks, 
his  whole  frame  shook  with  heavy  sobs.  The  two  men  flung 
their  arms  around  each  other,  kissing  and  embracing  each 
other  with  hearty  fervor,  as  Russians  will. 

Faith  had  stolen  across  to  where  the  old  prince  sat,  and 
now  stood  by  him  watching  these  two,  who  seemed  com- 
pletely to  have  forgotten  her  presence.  She  felt  very  small 
indeed  in  the  face  of  such  emotions.  What  a  wonderful 
thing  it  was  to  look  into  a  man's  soul,  to  see  it  in  the  evil 
and  the  good,  the  struggle  of  a  darkened  conscience  toward 
the  light,  the  workings  of  the  grace  of  God,  the  anguish  of 
self-contempt,  the  uplifting  power  of  repentance^  the  en- 
nobling influence  of  a  pure  love!  What  was  she,  an  igno- 
rant, blundering  child,  that  God  should  have  chosen  her  to 
be  His  instrument  in  this  man's  salvation? 

And  what  a  still  more  wonderful  thing  it  was  to  look 
into  the  noble,  Christian  soul  of  the  other  man  who  so 
loved  her,  and  who,  for  her  sake,  had  overcome  his  natural 
resentment  against  his  enemy  and  taken  him  to  his  bosom ! 
Oh,  she,  Faith,  was  nothing,  nothing!  These  men  loved 
thus,  they  acted  thus,  not  because  she  was  herself,  but  be- 
cause they  were  themselves,  and  could  not  love  or  act 

298 


ST.  GEORGE  THE  VICTORIOUS 

otherwise,  and  because  the  good  God  was  leading  them  both 
in  His  own  wondrous  way! 

After  a  few  moments'  talk  in  low,  earnest  tones,  Dov- 
sprung  arose,  and  pressing  Solntsoff' s  hand  in  farewell, 
crossed  the  room  to  where  Prince  Kliazemski  sat,  with  Faith 
standing  by  his  side.  His  bearing  was  erect,  but  his  eyes 
looked  downward  as  if  he  dared  not  raise  them  to  meet  the 
others'  gaze. 

"I  have  come  to  say  farewell  for  two  or  three  years,  per- 
haps forever,  for  the  post  has  its  dangers,"  he  said.  "Vladi- 
mir Pavlovich,  I  ask  your  blessing  on  my  new  life  and  an 
occasional  remembrance  in  your  prayers,  unworthy  as  I  am 
of  being  remembered."  He  knelt  down  by  the  old  man's 
side,  near  the  spot  where  Faith  was  standing. 

The  prince  laid  his  hands  on  the  young  ~  man's  head 
and  blessed  him  with  fervor,  then  embraced  him  with  pa- 
ternal kindness.  "I  shall  hope  to  hear  from  you  from  time 
to  time,  for  as  long  as  my  life  lasts  I  shall  take  a  father's 
interest  in  you,  my  son,  my  dear  son!  May  the  spirits  of 
your  noble  parents  dwell  with  you,  to  guide  and  keep  you!" 

Dovsprung  kissed  the  old  man's  hands  with  deepest  re- 
spect; then,  without  rising  from  his  knee,  he  turned  toward 
Faith. 

"Fides,"  he  said,  lifting  his  eyes  to  hers  for  the  first  time, 
"Angel  of  pity  and  forgiveness!  Will  you,  too,  bless  me?" 

Faith  was  startled.  She  had  never  blessed  any  one  in  her 
life,  nor  had  any  one,  not  even  Lyova,  ever  called  her  an 
angel.  She  had  not  the  faintest  idea  what  to  say.  She 
glanced  over  at  Solntsoff,  who  smiled  back  at  her,  tenderly 
and  encouragingly.  It  was  very  embarrassing,  for  they  were 
all  looking  at  her  and  waiting  for  her  to  speak.  She  laid 
her  hands  timidly  on  Dovsprung's  glossy,  brown  head,  and 
stammered  out  the  only  words  that  came  to  her  —  words 
from  Holy  Scripture  that  Solntsoff  himself  had  once  said  to 
her,  "May  God  bless  and  preserve  you,  and  may  He  give 

299 


FAITH  BRANDON 

His  holy  angels  charge  over  you,  to  keep  you  in  all  your 
ways!" 

Dovsprung  remained  on  his  knees,  his  head  sunk  on  his 
breast.  It  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  tear  himself  away  from 
this  adored  child,  —  known  and  loved  too  late !  He  had 
a  longing  for  something  of  hers  that  he  might  treasure, 
that  he  might  wear  next  his  heart,  to  kiss  and  to  cherish  — 
a  trinket,  a  handkerchief,  anything  that  had  once  been  hers, 
but  he  dared  not  ask.  What  right  had  he?  He  would 
stoop  and  kiss  the  hem  of  her  dress  —  perhaps  she  would 
give  him  her  hand  for  one  blessed  moment. 

Suddenly  he  felt  that  she  was  bending  toward  him,  her 
fingers  lightly  touched  the  Cross  of  St.  George  upon  his 
breast,  and  her  sweet  voice  whispered,  "You  have  overcome 
once,  you  will  overcome  to  the  end.  You  will  be  truly 
Saint  George."  And  then  —  was  he  dreaming,  or  were  her 
lips  pressed  to  his  brow? 

It  was  the  first  kiss  of  innocence  that  had  come  to  him 
since  the  death  of  a  cherished  little  sister,  in  the  days  of 
his  upright  youth.  Like  the  chrism  of  consecration,  the 
kiss  of  angelic  love  and  compassion  rested  an  instant  on 
his  brow,  then  it  was  gone,  but  its  sacred  touch  had  thrilled 
to  the  inmost  fibers  of  his  moral  being. 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  stood  a  moment,  erect  and  knightly, 
a  glow  of  exaltation  transforming  his  features,  his  uplifted 
eyes  shining  in  the  light  of  high  resolve.  Then,  bowing  low 
before  her  in  deepest  reverence,  as  one  bows  before  the 
holy  Ikons,  he  turned  and  went  forth  from  the  beloved 
presence  to  meet  his  new  life  of  exile,  privation  and 
danger. 

And  Faith,  shaken  in  soul  and  overwhelmed  by  the 
emotions  of  the  past  few  days,  fled  to  her  lover's  side, 
and,  kneeling  down  by  his  couch,  flung  her  arms  about 
him  and  cried  as  if  her  heart  were  breaking. 

As  for  the  lover,  he  held  her  to  his  breast,  understanding  all. 

300 


PART  III 
CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  BISHOP  INTERFERES 

"  If  thou  dost  bid  thy  friend  farewell, 
But  for  one  night  though  that  farewell  may  be, 
Press  thou  his  hand  in  thine  —  how  canst  thou  tell 
How  far  from  thee 
Fate  or  caprice  may  lead  his  feet 
Ere  that  to-morrow  comes?    Men  have  been  known 
To  lightly  turn  the  corner  of  a  street, 
And  days  have  grown 
To  months,  and  months  to  lagging  years, 
Ere  they  have  looked  in  loving  eyes  again! 
Parting  at  best  is  underlaid  with  tears, 
Therefore  lest  sudden  death  should  come  between, 
Or  tune,  or  distance,  clasp  with  pressure  true 
The  hand  of  him  who  goeth  forth.     Unseen 
Fate  goeth,  too." 

—  Coventry  Patmore. 

A  FORTNIGHT  later  a  family  council  was  being  held  at 
Brussels.  Three  men  were  in  earnest  debate  —  Bishop 
Ludlow,  striding  back  and  forth  the  library  of  Milbanke's 
quarters  in  the  British  Legation,  stopping  from  time  to  time 
to  gesticulate  forcefully  as  he  laid  down  the  law  and  the 
Gospel  to  his  hearers;  Rupert  Milbanke,  standing  alter- 
nately at  the  window  or  the  fireplace,  with  hands  in  his 
pockets  and  a  frown  of  vexation  on  his  brow,  while  by  the 
table  sat  a  gentleman  who  had  hitherto  not  taken  a  large 
part  in  his  family's  councils  —  Mr.  Charles  Brandon. 

Faith's  father  bore  a  strong  resemblance  to  his  daughter 
Sophy.  Like  her,  he  was  not  handsome,  but  looked  intel- 
lectual and  amiable.  Like  her,  also,  he  was  kind-hearted 
and  well-meaning,  but  too  much  absorbed  in  his  own  studies 

301 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and  pursuits  and  too  easily  led  by  those  about  him,  espe- 
cially by  his  elder  daughter  and  his  brother-in-law.  Yet  he, 
also,  had  his  moments  of  insubordination  and  self-assertion, 
and  the  present  moment  was  apparently  of  these. 

"Solntsoff's  conduct  places  me  in  an  awkward  predica- 
ment," said  Rupert,  with  a  deepening  of  the  vexed  frown. 
"My  next  move  would  naturally  be  to  St.  Petersburg,  but  it 
will  be  decidedly  unpleasant  for  me  there  as  the  brother-in- 
law  of  Solntsoff,  the  publicist,  if  he  is  going  to  set  every  one 
by  the  ears  in  this  fashion.  He  has  resigned  from  the 
Foreign  Office  and  his  diplomatic  career,  and  now,  a  week 
later,  brings  out  his  review,  the  first  two  numbers  of  which 
contain  the  most  virulent  attacks  on  the  Ministry  for  their 
policy  in  Manchuria.  He  has  pulled  down  a  perfect  hornet's 
nest.  The  Russian  Foreign  Office  is  deeply  annoyed,  espe- 
cially when  its  relations  with  Japan  are  so  ticklish.  Solntsoff 
is  all  right  as  a  private  man.  He  is  a  clean,  steady,  clever 
fellow  of  much  personal  charm,  but  as  a  pugnacious  pub- 
licist brother-in-law  he  is  going  to  be  a  nuisance." 

"His  whole  conduct  has  been  a  bitter  disappointment," 
broke  in  the  bishop.  "He  has  shown  a  duplicity  and  cun- 
ning with  regard  to  Faith's  religion  that  has  been  an  awful 
shock  to  me.  She  is  by  nature  a  truthful  child,  yet  you  see 
how  he  has  led  her  to  deceive  me,  leaving  me  to  think  that 
she  could  be  received  into  full  communion  with  the  Orthodox 
and  yet  remain  an  Anglican.  Then  it  comes  out  that  she 
had  to  be  confirmed  over  again  and  solemnly  abjure  her 
'heresies!' "  The  bishop  nearly  choked  over  the  word.  "  He 
has  her  completely  hypnotized.  She  absolutely  said  to  my 
face  that  she  wanted  to  go  over  to  the  Russian  Church 
because  no  one  acknowledged  my  Orders,  while  even  Rome 
acknowledged  Orthodox  Orders!  Why,  she  might  as  well 
go  over  to  Rome  itself  on  that  excuse!"  and  he  laughed 
sardonically  at  such  a  reductio  ad  absurdum. 

"Well,  and  why  not?"  put  in  Mr.  Brandon.     "I  am  a 

302 


THE  BISHOP  INTERFERES 

Unitarian,  you  know,  and  I  look  at  it  all  from  the  viewpoint 
of  an  outsider,  but  I  never  thought  your  High  Church  posi- 
tion logical.  The  claim  of  Rome  is  as  well  founded  in 
Scripture  as  the  claim  that  there  is  any  organized  church 
at  all.  The  two  stand  or  fall  together.  What  I  can't  com- 
prehend is  your  keeping  on  in  a  Protestant  denomination, 
and  rigging  yourself  out  with  Catholic  trappings  which  every 
one  can  see  do  not  belong  to  you!" 

The  bishop  was  paralyzed!  A  Protestant  denomination! 
Yet  what  could  he  say?  That  wretched  appellation  which 
in  an  evil  hour  had  been  tacked  on  to  the  American  Epis- 
copal Church  hung  about  its  shoulders  like  a  veritable  Old- 
Man-of-the-Sea.  And  even  in  England,  did  not  the  king, 
as  head  of  the  English  Church,  have  at  his  coronation  to 
declare  himself  on  oath  a  Protestant  and  the  upholder  of 
Protestant  religion?  It  was  a  terrible  thing  that  the  Non- 
conformists should  have  this  handle  for  their  assertions! 

Rupert  glanced  rather  pityingly  at  his  stepfather.  It 
was  strange  how  completely  devoid  of  any  church  instinct 
these  men  were  who  grew  up  in  believe-as-you-please  Agnos- 
ticism and  Unitarianism.  They  were  so  narrow,  so  lacking 
in  a  fair  understanding  of  the  Early  British  Church  and  its 
Historic  Continuity,  let  alone  the  theological  significance  of 
it  all! 

Still,  on  the  other  hand,  he  could  not  wholly  agree  with  the 
view  of  his  uncle.  Bishop  Ludlow  was  equally  narrow  in  his 
way.  Since  it  was  a  legal  necessity  that  Faith,  in  marrying 
an  Orthodox  Russian,  should  be  married  by  an  Orthodox 
clergyman,  why  should  the  bishop  demand  to  perform  the 
ceremony  himself  alone,  and  seize  upon  this  innocent  occa- 
sion to  try  and  wring  from  the  Russian  Synod  a  recognition 
of  the  validity  of  his  Orders?  Why  not,  rather,  by  magnan- 
imously acquiescing  in  their  requirements,  show  them  how 
completely  he  felt  himself  at  one  with  them  in  their  sacra- 
mental and  ecclesiastical  life? 

303 


FAITH  BRANDON 

He  started  to  suggest  this  latter  course  in  mild  and  dip- 
lomatic language,  but  Mr.  Brandon  interrupted. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,  Wilfred,"  he  asked  the  bishop, 
"when  you  accuse  Solntsoff  of  duplicity,  that  he  had  actually 
told  you,  in  so  many  words,  that  Faith  could  receive  the 
Russian  sacraments  and  yet  remain  an  Anglican?  " 

"I  had  every  reason  to  understand  that  she  could  do  so," 
replied  Bishop  Ludlow,  firmly.  "He  says  that  I  failed  to 
make  that  stipulation  clear  in  my  letter,  but  I  find  all  these 
Slavs  tricky,  the  higher  clergy  the  same  as  the  laity.  They 
are  full  of  outward  tolerance  and  courtesy,  they  listen  with 
sympathy,  they  treat  you  with  every  mark  of  consideration 
and  respect.  But  when  it  comes  to  some  practical  test 
question,  they  smile  and  bow,  and  calmly  lock  the  door  in 
your  face!  Then  you  find  out  that  was  what  they  had  meant 
to  do  from  the  first.  I  declare  I  would  rather  deal  with  the 
irreconcilable  arrogance  of  Rome  itself!  At  least  you  know 
where  you  stand." 

"Which  is,  on  the  sands!"  laughed  Mr.  Brandon.  "They 
won't  let  you  on  to  the  Rock  of  the  Church,  either  in  the 
East  or  in  the  West.  But,  after  all,  that  is  a  side  issue.  Let 
us  go  to  the  practical  point." 

The  bishop's  lip  curled  scornfully.  The  practical  point 
indeed!  That  was  the  very  thing  he  was  fighting  for! 
And  who  was  Charles  Brandon,  of  all  impossible  theorists 
and  dreamers,  to  talk  of  practical  things? 

"How  do  you  propose  to  get  round  the  difficulty?" 
asked  the  impossible  theorist. 

"I  shall  simply  break  up  the  marriage,"  said  the  bishop, 
with  Spartan  firmness. 

Rupert  started  forward  with  a  subdued  exclamation.  It 
was  his  little  sister's  happiness  they  were  planning  to  break 
up  so  ruthlessly!  "But,  Sir "  he  began. 

"I  am  Faith's  spiritual  guardian  by  her  mother's  will," 
declared  the  bishop  with  solemn  emphasis.  "Her  religious 

3°4 


THE  BISHOP  INTERFERES 

education  was  entrusted  to  me,  I  baptized  her  and  confirmed 
her,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  draw  her  back  from  error  and  per- 
version. And  it  is  your  duty,  Charles,  to  bear  me  out  in 
this,"  and  he  fixed  a  commanding  eye  on  his  brother-in-law. 

But  the  usually  subservient  Mr.  Brandon  was  emboldened 
by  pity  for  his  child  to  unexampled  resistance.  uThe  fact 
is,  Wilfred,"  he  said  recklessly,  "I  consider  Faith's  spiritual 
vagaries  to  be  largely  the  fault  of  your  bringing  up.  When 
my  wife  made  her  will,  before  we  went  down  to  Argentina, 
you  were  not  so  carried  away  with  High  Church  notions 
as  you  are  now.  She  supposed  that  the  child  would  be 
brought  up  a  sound  Protestant,  in  the  good,  old-fashioned, 
Low-Church  Protestant-Episcopalianism  of  your  sisters  and 
your  parents,  and  of  your  own  youth.  But  for  the  last  four 
or  five  years  you  have  been  filling  the  girl's  head  with  a 
craze  for  early  ecclesiastical  history  and  with  projects  for 
reunion  with  the  Russian  and  Greek  and  Oriental  Orthodox 
churches,  till  she  thought  it  the  natural  and  obvious  thing 
to  join  in  with  them  and  was  not  surprised  when  she  under- 
stood you  to  encourage  her  to  do  so.  You  have  only  your- 
self to  blame  for  her  condition  of  mind." 

"I  deny  that!"  said  the  bishop  stoutly.  "It  is  Rupert, 
here,  who  is  responsible,  with  his  notion  that  we  are  all 
national  branches  of  one  church,  that  we  should  in  Russia 
worship  with  the  Russians,  in  Rome  with  the  Romanists, 
in  Greece  with  the  Greeks,  indifferently.  He  does  not  seem 
to  see  that  it  is  their  stiff-necked  refusal  to  acknowledge  our 
Anglican  orders  and  sacraments  which  keeps  us  all  apart,  to 
the  scandal  of  Christendom." 

"I  plead  guilty,"  said  Rupert,  carelessly.  "I  confess  I 
cannot  see  an  iota  of  difference  between  their  Orthodox  doc- 
trines and  those  of  the  Early  British  Church,  or  of  what  your 
lordship  is  pleased  to  call  the  'Ritualists'  of  to-day,  or  even 
of  the  Roman  Church,  barring  the  Papacy.  My  preference 
would  be  for  Faith  to  marry  an  Englishman  and  remain  an 

305 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Anglican.  But  as  she  is  in  love  with  a  wholly  admirable 
fellow  who  happens  to  be  a  Russian,  I  do  not  feel  the  slightest 
concern  at  her  worshiping  with  him  according  to  the  re- 
quirements of  his  branch  of  the  Church!" 

The  bishop  snorted  contemptuously  and  was  about  to 
burst  out  in  reply,  when  Mr.  Brandon  interposed. 

"Between  you  both,"  he  said,  "I  see  that  the  only- 
thing  to  do  is  to  get  Faith  back  to  the  care  of  her  good 
Protestant  aunts.  She  is  very  young  to  know  her  own 
mind,  either  in  religion  or  in  love.  I  propose  that  she 
return  with  me  to  America,  be  introduced  to  American 
society,  and  have  a  chance  to  meet  some  representative 
American  young  men.  She  can  go  to  college  if  she  wants  to, 
or  take  up  any  of  the  interests  of  young  girls  of  her  age,  and 
learn  to  know  what  she  is  giving  up.  There  will  be  no 
Russian  Church  to  charm  her  in  Boston,  and  she  will  soon 
forget  and  come  back  to  look  at  things  in  the  old  way." 

"You  have  omitted  two  imperative  conditions,"  inter- 
rupted the  bishop.  "The  engagement  must  be  broken  off 
definitively  and  there  must  be  no  correspondence  with  this 
man  or  any  of  his  family  or  friends." 

"Will  it  be  necessary  to  go  quite  so  far?"  hesitated  Mr. 
Brandon. 

" Undoubtedly!  Merely  deferring  the  marriage  would  not 
answer  at  all.  She  must  understand  that  it  is  off  forever." 

"  I  don't  believe  she  will  break  it  off,"  said  Rupert.  "  She 
may  submit  to  a  test,  for  she  is  very  gentle  and  reasonable, 
but  that  is  as  far  as  she  will  go." 

"She  must  break  it!"  pronounced  the  uncle.  "She  must 
be  made  to  feel  she  cannot  help  herself.  She  cannot  legally 
marry  in  Europe  without  her  father's  consent,  and  he  has 
only  to  show  a  little  firmness,  and  consideration  for  his 
wife's  wishes." 

There  was  a  pause.  "How  long  is  the  test  to  last?"  in- 
quired Milbanke. 

306 


THE  BISHOP  INTERFERES 

"Oh,  ah,  why,  a  year  or  so,  I  suppose,"  said  Mr.  Brandon, 
undecidedly. 

"It  should  last  till  she  is  twenty-one.  Even  at  twenty- 
one  a  girl  is  a  mere  baby!"  declared  the  bishop,  whose  own 
wife  had  been  twenty-nine  at  her  marriage. 

"I  agree  that  you  were  both  rather  foolish  to  let  her  think 
of  marrying  at  eighteen,"  said  Mr.  Brandon.  "It  is  far 
too  young." 

"Her  mother  was  only  eighteen  and  a  half  when  she 
married  my  father  —  a  singularly  happy  marriage  in  every 
respect,"  put  in  Rupert,  eyeing  his  step-father  rather  grimly. 
Mr.  Brandon  had  a  way  of  ignoring  his  wife's  first  marriage 
that  irritated  Rupert  and  it  gave  him  a  malicious  pleasure 
to  refer  to  it  on  every  occasion.  "  In  a  year  Faith  will  be  her 
mother's  age.  She  is  a  strong,  healthy,  well-developed  girl 
physically,  and  she  is  mentally  more  mature  than  most  girls 
can  ever  hope  to  be  at  any  age.  To  drag  out  the  test  three 
years  and  a  half  seems  to  me  to  be  tantamount  to  perse- 
cution." 

"It  is  no  mere  test,"  replied  the  bishop.  "It  is  a  case  where 
she  must  be  rescued  at  every  cost  from  an  unfortunate  step." 

"That  is  exactly  what'Genevieve  thinks,"  drawled  Mr. 
Brandon,  in  a  tone  so  like  his  daughter  that  even  the  bishop 
started  and  flushed  a  little.  "She  never  could  understand 
why  you  encouraged  the  match  from  any  point  of  view.  She 
always  thought  you  were  grossly  deceived  in  Solntsoff ." 

The  bishop  grew  purple.  Milbanke  grinned.  "Yes, 
it  will  be  nuts  to  Miss  Brandon,"  he  remarked.  But  the 
bishop  could  think  of  nothing  to  say,  though  he  walked 
the  room  with  tremendous  energy  and  cleared  his  throat 
vigorously  at  short  intervals. 

"Well,  what  shall  I  do?"  asked  Mr.  Brandon,  rather 
helplessly.  "Must  I  tell  Faithie  that  it  is  all  over,  or  — 
or  what?" 

Now  the  bishop,  when  he  thought  of  Genevieve  Brandon, 

307 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and  recalled  how  she  had  blackened  the  whole  Ludlow  clan, 
had  been  almost  ready  to  telegraph  Solntsoff  to  come  on 
and  have  the  ceremony  performed,  then  and  there,  by  the 
Pope  of  Rome  even,  if  he  wished  it.  But  the  sight  of  Mr. 
Brandon's  weakness  and  irresolution  and  Milbanke's  levity 
recalled  him  to  his  responsibilities. 

"Certainly  it  is  all  over,"  he  said.  "What  she  may  do 
after  she  is  twenty-one,  -neither  I  nor  you  are  answerable 
for.  But  let  it  be  distinctly  understood  by  all  concerned 
that  the  engagement  is  broken  wholly  on  religious  grounds. 
In  every  other  way  the  match  is  a  most  desirable  one,  most 
desirable!  I  cannot  concur  at  all  in  Miss  Brandon's  estimate 
of  the  affair.  Her  objections  were  wholly  without  foun- 
dation! Solntsoff  is  a  man  of  irreproachable  character, 
disinterested  motives,  distinguished  position  and  attain- 
ments. If  I  complain  of  any  lack  of  openness  in  his  dealings 
with  me,  it  is  solely  in  the  matter  of  religion,  and  for  that 
I  blame  his  church  and  not  himself." 

"Well,  there  is  plenty  of  time  to  decide  the  particulars," 
said  Mr.  Brandon,  easily.  "This  is  only  February  and  I 
do  not  sail  for  home  till  May." 

"I  sail  a  week  from  to-day,  on  account  of  my  mother's 
poor  health,"  said  the  bishop.  "Faith  should  return  with  me 
to  see  her  grandmother.  What  is  to  be  done  should  be  done 
at  once." 

Rupert  winced  and  turned  his  head  aside.  Mr.  Brandon 
also  winced  and  gave  a  little  sigh.  "The  poor  baby!"  he 
said,  softly. 

"I,  as  her  spiritual  guardian,  am  the  proper  one  to  tell 
her  and  explain  the  insuperable  obstacles  which  intervene," 
declared  the  bishop. 

"No,  no!"  cried  Rupert,  starting  forward.  "She  is  in 
my  house  as  my  guest.  I  invited  her  to  stop  with  me  till 
she  married.  If  she  is  to  be  sent  away  I  am  the  one  to  let 
her  know." 

308 


THE  BISHOP  INTERFERES 

"Yes,  Wilfred/'  interposed  Mr.  Brandon.  "You  know 
you  said  yourself  that  it  was  all  Rupert's  fault.  He  ought 
to  be  the  one  to  suffer  for  it.  Let  him  break  it  to  her." 

Rupert  did  not  wait  for  the  bishop's  consent;  but  pushed 
hastily  by  him  and  out  of  the  door,  which  closed  rather 
noisily  behind  him. 

Faith,  quite  unconscious  of  the  gathering  storm,  was  in 
the  school  room,  waiting  for  the  little  boys  to  come  in  from 
their  walk  and  have  their  usual  hour  of  story-telling  before 
the  fire.  She  was  reading  for  the  twentieth  time  the  letter 
that  had  come  to  her  that  morning  from  St.  Petersburg. 

"I  am  now  fully  launched  into  the  tempestuous  sea 
of  political  journalism  (it  said)  and,  heavens,  how  the 
elements  rage!  No  doubt  our  lively  little  sheet  is  itself  re- 
sponsible for  some  of  the  breeze.  It  is  not  so  much  a  news- 
paper as  a  daily  review  of  current  events,  and  our  leaders 
are  unsparing.  Your  tender  little  heart  would  be  torn  to 
shreds  if  you  could  see  how  your  Big  Friend  is  attacked  by 
his  morning  contemporaries.  My  admirers  might  be  more 
numerous  and  my  adversaries  less  abusive,  if  I  myself  were 
less  aggressive,  but  be  at  peace,  Little  Comrade,  and  have 
no  anxiety  for  me.  What  I  am  doing,  or  trying  to  do,  I 
estimate  in  the  light  of  eternity,  and  care  little  about  un- 
popularity or  opposition.  I  should  enjoy  the  fight  if  it 
were  not,  unfortunately,  my  poor  country  that  is  concerned. 
Not  that  I  think  my  ideas  are  the  only  ones  that  will  save 
Russia.  Poor  Russia!  She  has  so  many  would-be  saviours! 
But  I  do  take  sadly  to  heart  the  present  attitude  of  the 
government  toward  affairs  in  the  Far  East.  We  are  acting 
as  if  it  all  depended  on  our  own  august  will  whether  there 
was  to  be  war  or  not.  I  do  not  think  Japan  will  hesitate 
long.  If  they  are  ever  to  fight  us,  they  must  do  so  before 
the  trans-Siberian  railway  is  completed.  Now  is  their 
time,  and  I  have  little  doubt  they  will  act.  It  took  the 
English  two  years  to  subdue  a  handful  of  Dutch  farmers  in 
South  Africa,  although  the  question  of  transportation  of 
troops  was  a  comparatively  easy  one  for  them.  We  seem 
to  have  learned  nothing  from  their  discomfiture.  Yet 
what  would  a  Manchurian  war  mean  to  us,  who  must  trans- 

3°9 


FAITH  BRANDON 

port,  in  the  dead  of  winter,  not  only  every  soldier,  but  his 
equipment  and  maintenance,  and  all  the  supplies  of  every 
branch  of  the  service  over  six  thousand  miles  of  a  single- 
track,  lightly  built  and  uncompleted  railway?  Moreover 
our  treaty  with  France  obliges  us  to  keep  two  thirds  of  our 
best  fighting  forces  on  the  enormous  stretch  of  European 
frontier,  not  to  speak  of  the  garrisons  on  thousands  of  miles 
of  Asiatic  frontier.  How  can  we  adequately  meet,  at  the 
extreme  end  of  a  remote  province  of  China,  a  clever,  well- 
prepared  foe  who  is  near  his  base  of  supplies  and  can  strike 
quickly?  All  will  depend  on  what  defense  our  Pacific  fleet 
can  put  up,  and  part  of  that  fleet  is  now  lying  ice-bound 
at  Vladivostock!  Of  course,  we  shall  triumph  in  the  end; 
it  is  merely  a  matter  of  time,  and  they  will  never  reach 
Russian  territory;  but,  oh,  the  folly  of  it  all!  And  I  regret 
to  say  there  is  a  political  party  here,  so  unpatriotic,  so  un- 
worthy the  name  of  Russian,  that  it  actually  courts  war 
and  prays  for  disaster  for  the  sake  of  discrediting  those  in 
power! 

"Some  persons  might  not  think  this  a  love  letter;  but  you, 
my  golden  one,  know  better!  It  means  much  to  you  to 
share  all  my  thoughts,  my  fears,  my  hopes  and  endeavors. 
Perhaps  I  see  everything  through  dark  glasses  because  you 
are  no  longer  by  my  side. 

"I  was  very  sorry  that  your  uncle  should  have  met  with 
what  doubtless  seemed  to  him  discourtesy.  He  is  a  zealous 
and  a  noble-hearted  man,  absorbed  in  what  is  truly  a  great 
purpose,  though,  alas,  not  on  the  right  road  to  achieve  it. 
But  I  trust  that  you  will  win  him  to  look  at  the  question  with 
your  own  eyes  of  faith,  or,  at  least,  with  the  tolerance  of 
your  brother." 

The  aforesaid  brother,  peeping  in  at  the  door,  felt  a  sharp 
constriction  about  the  heart.  It  always  reminded  him  so  of 
his  lost  Amy  to  see  Faith  sitting  in  the  low  chair  by  the  fife, 
waiting  for  the  children's  hour.  His  whole  sympathy  went 
out  to  that  poor  fellow  in  Russia,  who  was  to  be  robbed  of  his 
hopes  of  wife  and  children  and  home.  His  spirit  was  full  of 
rebellion ;  but  there  was  no  time  to  lose,  or  the  bishop  would 
swoop  down  on  them  and  make  it  harder  for  Faith  than  ever. 

310 


THE  BISHOP  INTERFERES 

He  gave  a  cheery  whistle  and  she  sprang  up  and  embraced 
him  and  led  him  to  the  fire;  and  they  stood  together  looking 
down  at  its  fantastic  pictures. 

"It  will  break  me  all  up  to  have  you  leave,  Faithie," 
he  said. 

"Ah,  don't  think  of  it!  We  have  eight  more  months  to- 
gether. By  that  time  you  may  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  me. " 

"But  your  father  has  a  notion,  dear,  that  you,  er  — ought 
to  go  back  to  America,  to  —  er  —  see  your  grandmother 
again  —  she  is  ill,  you  know. " 

"I,  too,  had  thought  of  that,"  said  Faith,  hesitatingly. 
"It  seems  hard  not  to  see  her  and  my  aunts  once  more 
before  settling  over  here  forever,  when  they  really  brought 
me  up.  But  I  do  not  feel  that  I  can  leave  now  —  not  al- 
together on  your  account,  dear  Rupert,  though  I  know  you 
will  miss  me,  but  because  I  do  not  wish  to  put  the  ocean  be- 
tween Lyeff  Petrovich  and  myself  when  he  is  so  anxious  and 
disturbed  about  his  country's  affairs.  I  ought  to  be  right  at 
hand  to  comfort  him  a  bit  in  his  troubles. " 

Rupert's  heart  .sank  lower  and  lower.  Nothing  but  the 
thought  of  the  bishop  gave  him  strength  to  wound  her  gentle, 
faithful  spirit  and  tell  her  truthfully  the  result  of  their 
family  councils.  When  he  finished  doing  so  he  was  fairly 
trembling  and  tearful  as  a  girl,  but  she,  on  the  contrary, 
showed  nothing  but  wide-eyed  amazement. 

"But,  Rupert,  it  simply  cannot  be,"  she  declared.  "A 
promise  of  marriage  should  only  be  broken  for  serious 
reasons.  Uncle  says  he  did  not  realize  what  was  required 
when  he  urged  my  joining  the  Orthodox  Church,  but  that 
does  not  alter  one  thing  in  my  position  toward  Lyova.  We 
were  betrothed  with  the  full  consent  of  both  my  guardians,  he 
has  my 'promise  true, 'and  nothing  has  happened  to  warrant 
breaking  it  off.  Why,  just  think,  Rupert,  dear!  All  a  good 
man's  hopes  of  a  happy  home,  of  a  loving  wife  and  —  and  — 
of  dear  little  children,  are  built  upon  my  promise.  It  is  no 

3" 


FAITH  BRANDON 

light  thing  to  disappoint  such  hopes  as  those.  If  —  if  we 
were  parted  by  death,  he  would  have  to  bear  it  and  God  would 
give  him  grace,  but  to  be  parted  because  of  my  uncle's  mis- 
understanding with  the  Russian  hierarchy  is  too  unreason- 
able to  be  thought  of.  It  simply  cannot  be!" 

"But  unfortunately,  you  are  under  age,  and  your  father 
has  yielded  to  your  uncle's  demand. " 

Faith  laughed.  "I  mean  no  disrespect  to  dear  Papa," 
she  said,  "but  if  Uncle  will  only  let  him  alone,  Papa  will  listen 
to  reason  and  never  ask  such  a  thing  of  me.  Why,  only  ten 
days  ago,  when  he  arrived  here,  he  was  completely  under 
Genevieve's  influence  and  full  of  prejudices,  but  it  did  not 
take  us  twenty-four  hours  to  convert  him.  And  Uncle 
really  has  no  legal  control  over  my  freedom  of  action,  has 
he?" 

"I  think  not.  The  clause  in  the  will  was  merely  a  recom- 
mendation to  your  father  to  let  the  bishop  direct  your  re- 
ligious training.  Our  mother  herself  was  very  catholic- 
minded,  and  I  have  no  doubt  would  have  consented  as  freely 
as  I  did  to  your  worshiping  with  your  husband.  Nor  did 
it  bother  our  good  uncle  as  long  as  he  thought  the  Russian 
Church  would  recognize  his  Orders.  But  he  has  worked 
successfully  on  your  father's  scruples  and  revived  his  pre- 
judices in  favor  of  your  marrying  an  American. " 

"But  all  Americans  are  not  Episcopalians!"  remarked 
Faith,  with  discrimination.  "Even  if  some  misguided  Amer- 
ican youth  may  happen  to  want  to  marry  me,  I  might,  after 
all,  in  the  bishop's  eyes,  only  jump  from  the  frying-pan  into 
the  fire." 

"You  couldn't,"  said  Rupert,  dryly.  "The  bishop 
recognizes  no  frying-pan  but  Oriental  schismatics,  no  fire 
but  Rome!  In  good  Boston  society  you  meet  only  Unitar- 
ians, as  I  understand,  and  they  are  not  fire,  but  ice!  It 
would  be  sad,  of  course,  to  marry  a  Unitarian,  but  there 
would  be  compensations." 

312 


THE  BISHOP  INTERFERES 

Again  Faith  laughed  quite  merrily.  It  was  such  an  ab- 
surdity to  ask  her  to  break  with  Lyova  that  she  really  had 
no  fears. 

"Listen,  Rupert,"  she  said.  "It  will  be  very  hard  for 
me,  but  I  will  suggest  a  sort  of  compromise.  I  will  return 
to  America  with  Uncle  and  make  a  visit  to  my  aunts.  I 
will  go  into  society  and  see  all  of  the  world  they  want  me  to 
for  six  months.  I  shall  have  no  Russian  friends,  no  Russian 
Church  while  there;  and  I  will  read  all  the  controversial  books 
that  Uncle  gives  me.  Lyeff  Petrovich  and  I  will  write  each 
other  only  once  a  week,  or  even  only  once  in  two  weeks, 
instead  of  every  other  day,  as  we  do  now.  But  in  October, 
as  agreed,  I  shall  come  back  to  you  and  see  Lyova  again. 
Then,  if  he  doesn't  come  up  to  my  revised  and  Americanized 
standards,  or  I  have  developed  doubts  about  his  faith,  it 
will  be  time  enough  to  think  of  breaking  with  him. " 

"I  will  suggest  this  compromise  to  the  powers  that  be," 
sighed  Rupert,  "but  it  does  not  remove  the  objection  to  your 
youth." 

"That  cannot  be  helped,  it  runs  in  the  family,"  said  Faith. 
"My  mother  married  at  eighteen  and  a  half,  and  Father's 
grandmother  married  at  sixteen  and  was  engaged  at  fourteen. 
It  is  a  direct  inheritancel" 

But  while  these  two  planned  their  compromise,  the  bishop 
was  striking  while  the  iron  was  hot.  He  had  brought  Mr. 
Brandon  to  a  scrupulous  and  submissive  mood,  in  which 
he  believed  he  was  carrying  out  his  wife's  intentions  with 
regard  to  Faith.  The  bishop  was  not  going  to  let  the  man 
slip  from  his  influence  till  the  work  was  accomplished.  Mr. 
Brandon  was  made  to  sit  down  and,  then  and  there,  write 
a  letter  to  Prince  Solntsoff  telling  him  that  as  Faith  would 
not  be  free  to  marry  without  the  consent  of  her  guardians 
till  she  was  twenty-one  years  of  age,  he  might  as  well  consider 
the  engagement  broken  off  unconditionally,  as  neither  her 
father  nor  her  uncle  could  possibly  give  their  assent  to  her 

313 


FAITH  BRANDON 

worshiping  in  the  Russian  Church,  and  both  considered  her 
too  young  for  marriage. 

The  bishop  sealed  and  posted  the  letter  with  his  own 
hands  for  fear  Mr.  Brandon  might  have  compunctions  and 
add  a  postscript.  Forty-eight  hours  later  it  was  received 
and  read  by  a  man  already  harassed  and  broken  in  spirit 
and  sore  at  heart  over  the  news  that,  before  even  war  had 
been  declared,  his  country's  fleet,  its  sole  defense  in  the  Pacific, 
had  been  attacked  and  dispersed;  that  two  of  its  ships,  one 
containing  a  lifelong  friend,  had  gallantly  sailed  out  to 
fight  against  overwhelming  odds  and  gone  down  to  death 
and  destruction  rather  than  surrender,  and  that  a  year  of 
great  strain  and  probably  successive  disasters  awaited  Russia 
before  she  could  gather  and  equip  in  that  distant  province 
an  army  adequate  to  fight  a  battle  that  would  be  not  for 
Russia  alone,  but  for  the  whole  white  race  and  the  ideals  of 
Christendom. 

All  through  the  night  the  man  fought  his  bitter  struggle, 
crushing  down  the  ardent  hopes  of  his  manhood,  stifling 
his  longings,  calming  his  rebellions  and  throwing  himself 
headlong  into  the  exacting  work  of  his  editorial  office.  By  the 
next  evening  all  St.  Petersburg  knew  that  Prince  Solntsoff  s 
paper  had  been  seized  and  suppressed  by  the  censorship, 
the  princely  editor  fined  three  hundred  rubles,  and  sentenced 
to  one  month's  detention  in  the  Fortress  of  Saints  Peter 
and  Paul. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

PRISONERS 

\ 

"  Nightingale,  my  nightingale, 
Sweetly  singing  nightingale! 
Fly  the  distant  countries  through 
Town  and  village,  hill  and  dale,  — 
Will  another  maiden  hear  thee 
Like  to  me,  poor  me?  all  night 
Sleepless,  restless,  comfortless."  — 

—  Russian  folk-song,  "Solovey^,  moi  solovey, 
Golosisti  solovey!" 

WITH  many  tears  and  a  heavy  heart  Faith  wrote  her  letter 
to  Lyeff  Petrovich,  telling  him  of  the  terms  she  had  suggested 
to  her  father  as  a  compromise.  She  felt  like  a  traitor  to 
think  of  putting  the  ocean  between  herself  and  Lyova  at 
such  a  moment,  when  he  so  greatly '  needed  her  sympathy. 
Yet,  after  all,  she  owed  a  certain  duty  to  her  father  and  her 
aunts,  and  should  show  herself  willing  to  submit  to  any  test 
that  was  within  reason.  Beyond  what  she  had  offered  she 
would  not  go,  for  beyond  that  was  unreason.  If  they  asked 
more  of  her,  then  she  would  run  away  and  earn  her  own 
living  until  her  father  took  pity  on  her  and  gave  his  consent. 
It  was  not  just  to  make  her  suffer  for  her  uncle's  misappre- 
hensions and  inconsistencies. 

The  bishop  left  for  Antwerp,  where  Faith  was  to  join 
him  at  the  end  of  the  week.  In  his  absence  Mr.  Brandon 
visibly  weakened.  Faith's  compromise  seemed  to  cover  the 
ground  and  he  expressed  an  apparent  willingness  to  consent 
to  it.  Yes,  it  would  decidedly  savor  of  persecution  to  ask 
her  to  wait  three  or  four  years!  At  any  rate,  let  her  think 
that  the  separation  was  but  for  seven  months,  and  when 


FAITH  BRANDON 

they  once  had  her  in  America  all  sorts  of  things  might 
happen  to  lengthen  the  time.  Here  was  this  war,  for  in- 
stance. Of  course  she  could  not  expect  that  he  would  let 
her  go  to  Russia  to  live  in  the  midst  of  war.  Although  the 
scene  of  conflict  was  six  thousand  miles  away,  still,  who  knew 
but  that  a  general  European  conflagration  might  ensue? 
Faith  would  see  for  herself  that  America  was  the  only  fit 
country  to  live  in.  Yes,  it  was  much  better  to  appear  to 
accept  the  girl's  own  terms,  and  then  let  the  future  take 
care  of  itself. 

The  days  went  by  and  brought  no  answer  to  Faith's 
letter.  In  the  excitement  of  war  news,  such  a  minor  inci- 
dent as  the  censoring  of  a  journal  and  the  imprisonment  of 
its  editor  was  quite  overlooked  by  the  Associated  Press,  and 
there  was  no  notice  of  Solntsofi's  misfortune  in  the 
European  newspapers  so  eagerly  and  sorrowfully  scanned. 
Faith  remembered  her  former  experience  and  would  never 
doubt  Lyeff  Petrovich  again,  but  it  was  very  hard  to  have 
to  sail  without  a  word  from  him  to  say  that  he  understood 
and  acquiesced  in  her  decision.  She  wrote  a  second  letter, 
this  time  addressed  to  his  uncle's  care. 

Mr.  Brandon,  meanwhile,  found  himself  in  a  dilemma. 
Neither  Rupert  nor  Faith  knew  of  the  letter  he  and  the 
bishop  had  concocted  to  Solntsoff ,  but  in  due  time  an  answer 
had  arrived,  written  a  few  hours  before  the  prince's  arrest. 
lii  it  the  writer  politely  refused  to  consider  the  engagement 
as  broken  or  to  cease  corresponding  with  Faith;  but,  as  her 
welfare  was  the  dearest  interest  he  had  on  earth,  and  no 
sacrifice  could  be  too  great  that  was  for  her  benefit,  he  would, 
since  they  thought  her  too  young  at  present,  cheerfully 
consent  to  postpone  the  marriage  a  year  from  the  appointed 
time,  that  is,  until  her  nineteenth  birthday.  Mr.  Brandon 
decided  not  to  inform  Faith  or  Rupert  of  the  receipt  of 
this  letter. 

After  a  sorrowful  leave-taking  of  her  brother  and  his 

316 


PRISONERS 

boys,  Faith  started  with  her  father  to  join  the  bishop  at 
Antwerp.  There  her  courage  gave  out.  She  burst  into 
tears  and  informed  her  father  and  uncle  that  wild  horses 
should  not  drag  her  aboard  that  ship  until  she  had  a  message 
from  Lyeff  Petrovich. 

What  the  two  gentlemen  would  have  done  with  their 
rebellious  charge  can  only  be  conjectured  had  not  a  de- 
spatch from  Rupert  been  received  in  the  nick  of  time,  saying 
that  letters  had  come  which  he  would  forward  to  America, 
and  that  he  had  a  line  from  Countess  Chernyatina  which 
said  that  all  were  in  good  health. 

This  was  tolerable  comfort.  Faith's  mind  was  relieved, 
Mr.  Brandon's  troublesome  conscience  was  easier  about  the 
suppressed  letter,  and  the  bishop  inwardly  gave  thanks. 
There  was  no  knowing  what  those  letters  might  contain, 
but,  once  across  the  ocean,  and  with  himself  in  full  charge, 
he  felt  that  they  could  not  do  much  harm.  When  he  thought 
of  the  scenes  they  might  have  had  with  Faith,  the  vacil- 
lations and  the  lack  of  stamina  of  Charles  Brandon,  it  really 
seemed  as  if  Providence  had  directly  guided  all  for  the 
best  in  arranging  that  the  letters  should  first  reach  them  on 
the  other  side. 

But  after  his  little  daughter's  departure  the  vacillations 
of  Charles  Brandon  became  less  marked.  There  was  some- 
thing very  ingratiating  about  Faith,  and  when  she  was  con- 
stantly about  him  her  father's  heart  was  very  tender  toward 
her.  He  had  not  seen  her  for  two  years,  he  had  been  absent 
from  her  during  nine  years  of  her  childhood,  and  even  the 
two  years  she  had  lived  under  his  roof  in  the  Bay  State 
Road  he  had  hardly  been  aware  of  her  presence.  It  had 
been  a  complete  surprise  to  him,  therefore,  when  visiting 
Rupert  after  a  scientific  congress  at  Brussels,  to  find  his 
little  girl  so  tall,  so  well-developed,  so  sweet-mannered,  and 
altogether  so  good  and  charming  a  young  woman.  Her 
face  was  not  so  much  beautiful  as  it  was  lovely  in  character 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and  expression,  she  bore  herself  modestly  but  with  a  dainty 
little  air  of  breeding  and  distinction,  her  smile  was  like  a 
sunbeam,  her  eyes  were  glorious  in  their  depth  and  soulful- 
ness,  her  voice  was  like  music,  she  was  as  intelligent  and 
companionable  as  she  was  gentle  and  fine.  Was  it  aston- 
ishing that  she  should  already  be  beloved? 

But  the  more  Mr.  Brandon  thought  of  it  the  more  intol- 
erable it  seemed  to  him  that  this  precious  pearl  should  be 
buried  in  a  far-off,  semi-barbarous  country  like  Russia.  At 
first  he  had  been  rather  pleased  to  think  of  his  little  daughter 
as  "Princess  Solntsova,"  with  a  husband  who  seemed  to 
be  of  irreproachable  character  and  high  in  Imperial  favor. 
It  was  very  pretty  and  like  a  fairy  story  to  marry  a  prince 
and  live  at  court  and  be  happy  forever  after.  But  they 
seemed  to  have  queer  sorts  of  princes  in  Russia.  Apparently 
they  had  quite  common,  American  ideas  about  working  and 
having  careers,  and  making  names  for  themselves.  They 
not  only  went  into  the  army  and  diplomacy  like  other  young 
nobles,  but  into  law  and  engineering  and  journalism  and 
many  other  plebeian  pursuits.  And  this  man  was  poor  and 
had  no  estates.  His  entire  patrimony  did  not  bring  him 
over  twenty-five  hundred  dollars  a  year,  he  had  foolishly 
given  up  his  salary  at  the  Foreign  Office  and  his  position  at 
court,  and  it  was  problematical  how  much  he  could  earn 
with  his  pen.  There  would  be  nothing  very  princely  or 
fairy-like  about  living  in  a  simple,  four-room  flat,  in  an  un- 
fashionable quarter!  Mr.  Brandon  thought  his  nice  little 
girl  deserved  something  better  than  that. 

Then  came  the  shock  of  hearing  from  Rupert  that  Faith's 
future  husband  was  in  prison.  Good  heavens!  If  the 
match  had  seemed  objectionable  before,  it  was  revolting 
now.  The  stigma  of  imprisonment  seemed  horrible  to  him. 
Rupert  made  light  of  it,  explained  that  there  was  no  stain 
attaching  to  mere  political  incarceration,  that  Prince  Soln- 
tsoff's  only  offense  had  been  that  of  expressing  his  opinions 


PRISONERS 

too  freely,  at  a  ticklish  moment,  about  the  policy  of  a  cabinet 
minister,  in  a  country  which  had  a  strict  censorship  of  the 
press.  His  arrest  was  the  panic  of  a  sudden  crisis  that  had 
sought  a  victim.  For  Solntsoff  was  no  political  revolu- 
tionary. He  was  a  conservative,  loyal  to  throne  and  church, 
a  firm  believer  in  autocracy,  though  opposed  to  over-cen- 
tralization and  to  certain  developments  of  bureaucracy  and 
attacking  fiercely  the  present  Ministry's  conduct  of  affairs 
in  the  Far  East. 

But  if  the  Russian  censor  was  panic-stricken,  Mr.  Brandon 
was  equally  so.  Faith's  pleading  eyes,  her  tender  smile 
and  ingratiating  ways  were  now  far  removed,  and  their 
impression  was  fast  fading.  The  father  grew  daily  more 
stern  and  Brutus-like.  It  was  less  hard  to  hurt  Faith  for  her 
own  good  now  that  he  did  not  have  to  see  the  child  suffer. 
He  sat  down  and  wrote  his  con  vice,  would-be  son-in-law 
a  letter  that  even  the  bishop  would  have  acknowledged  to 
be  a  model  of  firmness.  The  engagement  was  to  be  con- 
sidered broken,  unconditionally  and  forever.  Faith  should 
be  allowed  to  receive  no  letters  or  communications  whatever 
from  the  prince  or  any  of  his  family.  She  had  already  sailed 
for  America  and  should  remain  there  till  she  was  twenty-one 
and  as  long  after  as  he  could  control  her  actions,  but  Mr. 
Brandon  added  that  he  hoped,  before  she  was  twenty-one, 
-Faith  would  have  learned  to  love  some  fine  young  American 
fellow  and  settle  down  in  the  land  of  civilization  and 
freedom. 

After  this  letter  was  sent  Mr.  Brandon  became  hotly  en- 
gaged in  a  controversy  with  a  learned  Belgian  confrere 
over  the  exact  weight  of  the  gases  in  the  tail  of  a  newly 
discovered  comet.  Absorbed  in  the  study  and  writing  neces- 
sary for  maintaining  his  opinion,  he  put  aside  his  paternal 
cares  with  the  comfortable  feeling  that  he  had  acted  for 
his  child's  best  good,  and  had  done  his  duty  as  the  bishop 
and  Genevieve  saw  it  for  him.  Quite  forgetting  to  inform 

m 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Faith  and  Rupert  of  his  latest  measures,  he  put  the  whole 
matter  out  of  his  mind  with  a  sigh  of  relief. 

In  the  fortress  of  Saints  Peter  and  Paul  the  days  passed 
wearily  for  Solntsoff,  not  that  his  imprisonment  was  severe, 
—  it  was  merely  irksome, —  but  the  absence  of  occupation 
left  him  restless  and  gave  him  too  much  time  to  brood  over 
the  mischances  of  love  and  life.  He  was  not  permitted  to  re- 
ceive any  communications  from  outside,  or  to  send  any  letters 
himself,  and  the  only  person  allowed  to  visit  him  was  his 
sister,  whose  two  short  visits  a  week  were  ail  that  kept  him 
in  touch  with  his  family  and  the  world.  He  had  given 
Natalia  Petrovna  authority  to  open  his  private  mail.  It 
was  painful  to  him  to  think  of  any  one  else  seeing  Faith's 
words  to  himself,  but  at  this  critical  moment  in  their  affairs 
it  was  absolutely  essential  that  he  should  know  the  contents 
of  her  letters  and  those  of  hej  guardians,  and  send  such 
messages  as  were  necessary.  < 

His  plain,  bare-walled  cell  was  meagrely  but  decently  fur- 
nished. He  was  permitted  to  walk  in  the  broad  corridors 
of  the  fortress  and  to  attend  the  beautiful  services  in  the 
noble  cathedral.*  Twice  a  day  he  could  walk  in  the  garden 
and  converse  with  his  fellow-prisoners,  but  his  sister  was  his 
only  visitor. 

At  her  second  visit  she  found  him  in  the  corridor,  looking 
through  the  window  at  the  superb  view  over  the  islands  of 
the  Nyeva  toward  the  Gulf  of  Finland.  The  brother  and 
sister  embraced  and  sat  down  in  the  window-seat  to- 
gether. 

"Uncle  is  bearing  up  well,  and  there  has  "been  a  third 
letter  from  Vyerochka,"  she  told  him.  "The  dear  child 
writes  you  so  exquisitely.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  committing 
sacrilege  in  reading  her  letters  to  you,  yet  there  is  always  a 
sweet  restraint,  a  delicacy  of  expression  that  shows  the 

*The  citadel  of  Saints  Peter  and  Paul  contains  the  prison  of  state, 
the  mint,  the  arsenal,  and  the  cathedral,  where  are  the  tombs  of  the 
Imperial  family. 

320 


PRISONERS 

reticence  of  maidenhood  and  makes  them  such  that  all  the 
world  might  read." 

"And  the  sailing  has  not  been  deferred?" 

"No.  She  had  not  received  my  letters,  the  time  was 
evidently  too  short  to  forward  them  to  her  in  Antwerp, 
but  Mr.  Milbanke  had  wired  her  of  their  receipt,  that  he 
would  readdress  them  to  America  and  that  we  all  were  well. 
She  seemed  content  to  know  they  had  arrived  and  appar- 
ently supposed  them  from  you  and  had  no  suspicion  of  your 
imprisonment." 

"Of  course  not,  or  she  would  not  have  sailed.  If  I 
could  only  have  seen  you  one  day  earlier  to  tell  you  how 
matters  stood!"  He  bit  his  lip  and  turned  his  face 
aside. 

"I  am  afraid  I  did  not  manage  it  cleverly,"  said  the  sister, 
regretfully,  "but  I  had  to  act  on  my  own  responsibility.  I 
could  not  consult  you,  and  I  did  not  understand  how  much 
Mr.  Milbanke  was  in  sympathy  with  you.  I  feared  the 
opposition  came  as  much  from  him  as  the  other  relatives, 
so  I  wrote  directly  to  her  and  to  her  only." 

"Did  you  tell  her  about  poor  Youri  Andre vich?" 

"No.  I  thought  I  would  wait  till  we  knew  more  defi- 
nitely. His  name  is  still  among  the  missing,  but  Father 
Gavriil  does  not  think  the  fact  of  his  death  sufficiently  estab- 
lished to  say  the  memorial  of  the  dead*  for  him.  We  know 
now  the  names  of  the  survivors  picked  up  by  the  boats  of 
the  neutral  warships  and  he  is  not  among  them,  but  they 
think  that  a  few  may  have  been  rescued  by  Japanese  boats. 
They  do  not  give  up  hope  entirely." 

"He  was  a  famous  swimmer  and  a  bold  fighter.  He 
would  never  have  let  himself  be  captured  alive.  He  either 
went  down  with  the  ship,  or  else  was  too  severely  wounded 
to  resist,"  declared  Solntsoff. 

They  both  sighed  and,  crossing  themselves,  said  a  prayer 

*  Panahidy,  i.e.,  the  Requiem  Mass  of  the  Russian  liturgy. 

321 


FAITH  BRANDON 

for  Youri  Andrevich,  for  his  safety  and  well-being  if  alive, 
or,  if  dead,  for  the  repose  of  his  shriven  soul. 

"Why  need  he  have  gone  out  with  the  ill-fated  ships?" 
queried  Natalia  Petrovna,  sadly.  "If  he  had  been  in  the 
navy,  I  could  understand,  but  as  an  army  man  he  should 
have  saved  himself  to  fight  with  his  branch  of  the  service." 

"He  was  not  attached  to  any  command,"  explained  the 
brother.  "He  was  not  on  any  special  mission.  He  had 
merely  obtained  leave  to  go  out  there  as  to  a  post  of  danger 
and  volunteer  his  services  in  case  of  trouble.  He  is  an  utterly 
fearless  man,  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  the  old-time  Russian 
warfare.  You  remember,  Natasha,  in  our  early  history, 
when  at  the  siege  of  Ryazan,  in  1240,  a  handful  of  Russian 
bogatyrs  attacked  the  entire  Mongolian  horde  and  were 
slain  almost  to  a  man,  that  the  Mongolian  Khan  wept  over 
the  bodies  of  his  enemies  and  said,  'Russians  know  well  how 
to  drink  the  deathcup  with  their  princes!'  In  this  spirit  I 
can  understand  perfectly  Yurochka's  impulse  to  throw  in 
his  lot  with  those  who  were  so  gallantly  courting  death." 

"Vyera  will  be  much  affected.  I  think,  after  all,  that 
I  had  better  write  to  her  so  that  poor  Youri  may  have  the 
benefit  of  her  innocent  prayers." 

"Try,  Natasha,  to  find  out  from  Milbanke  a  little  more 
clearly  how  matters  stand.  You  say  Vyera  writes  that  she 
has  consented  to  please  her  father  by  submitting  to  a  test 
of  seven  months,  and  that  he  was  willing  to  compromise  on 
this.  Of  me,  however,  he  demanded  a  complete  rupture 
of  the  engagement.  I  have  bound  myself  in  honor  to  an 
additional  year  of  waiting,  but  naturally  refused  anything 
further  at  present.  His  reply  to  me  is  an  insistence  that 
I  must  consider  the  marriage  broken  off  unconditionally 
and  forever.  Yet  Milbanke's  letter  to  you  shows  that  he 
himself  is  under  the  same  impresson  as  Vyera,  that  she  is 
to  return  in  October.  Is  the  father  deceiving  them  or  me?  " 

And  Natalia  Petrovna  fulfilled  her  imprisoned  brother's 

322 


PRISONERS 

wishes  with  sisterly  devotion  and  promptness.  Milbanke 
also  proved  to  be  somewhat  in  the  dark  with  regard  to  Mr. 
Brandon's  proceedings,  and  could  give  them  little  enlight- 
enment. They  must  wait  to  hear  further  from  Vyera  herself 
after  she  should  be  settled  in  America. 

As  long  as  Solntsoff's  imprisonment  continued  Rupert 
corresponded  regularly  with  the  countess  and  passed  her 
letters  on  to  Faith.  And  Faith  needed  them,  for  her  trials 
came  thick  and  fast.  The  rough,  wintry  voyage  had  been 
uneventful,  and  she  had  been  free  from  misgivings,  for  was 
not  Lyova  in  good  health,  and  were  there  not  letters  follow- 
ing her  across  the  water?  She  saw  little  of  her  uncle,  for 
the  bishop,  a  poor  sailor,  rarely  emerged  from  the  seclusion 
of  his  stateroom,  preserving  his  dignity  as  best  he  might 
under  the  circumstances  and  graciously  refusing  Faith's 
offers  of  service  or  companionship. 

The  first  intimation  of  trouble  came  on  landing.  She 
had  wished  to  cable  her  safe  arrival  at  once  to  Solntsoff, 
when  the  bishop  interfered. 

"I  shall  cable  to  Rupert,"  he  said.  "Let  that  suffice. 
It  is  not  proper  you  should  send  messages  to  your  former 
lover." 

"My  former'  lover?"  asked  Faith,  coloring  in  astonish- 
ment. 

The  bishop  looked  very  grave.  "I  spoke  advisedly," 
he  said.  "He  is  no  longer  your  lover.  The  engagement  is 
at  an  end.  There  would  be  gross  impropriety  in  your  com- 
municating with  him." 

"Oh,  but,  dear  Uncle,  it  is  not  really  at  an  end!  Papa 
settled  all  that  with  Rupert  and  me.  It  is  simply  a  sort 
of  test.  We  are  not  to  write  as  frequently  as  usual,  but 
that  is  all.  It  is  not  off." 

"I  apprehend  differently,"  declared  the  bishop.  "Your 
father  said  nothing  to  me  of  any  test.  Until  I  hear  from 
him  definitely  to  the  contrary,  I  must  act  according  to  our 

323 


FAITH  BRANDON 

understanding  at  parting,  and  absolutely  forbid  all  com- 
munication." 

Faith  trembled  with  rebellion  and  dismay.  She  must 
submit  about  the  cablegram,  that  was  of  minor  importance, 
but  the  rest  was  preposterous.  She  would  write  at  once  to 
her  father  and  ask  him  to  put  down  their  agreement  in  black 
on  white,  and  clear  up  her  uncle's  extraordinary  misappre  - 
hension  forever. 

But  in  the  meanwhile  the  letters  that  arrived,  forwarded 
by  Rupert,  proved  to  be,  not  from  Solntsoff  but  from  his 
sister,  telling  Faith  of  his  imprisonment  and  the  impossibil- 
ity of  his  receiving  or  sending  letters  till  he  should  be  again 
free. 

The  tender  heart  of  his  Little  Comrade  was  full  to  bursting; 
and  there  was  no  one  to  whom  she  could  turn  for  sympathy 
or  consolation.  For  her  father  had  expressly  forbidden  her 
to  speak  to  any  one  of  Lyeff  Petrovich,  least  of  all  to  her 
aunts,  fearing  that  with  their  European  tastes  and  associa- 
tions they  might  be  a  source  of  encouragement  to  her  foolish 
fancies.  The  return  of  their  young  charge  was  a  comfort  and 
a  delight  to  these  kind,  lonely  ladies,  especially  when,  a  few 
weeks  after  her  arrival,  their  aged  and  feeble  mother  was 
released  by  death  from  her  long  widowhood  of  disappoint- 
ment and  sorrow.  The  two  daughters  were  greatly  pros- 
trated; and  Faith  was  glad  of  the  sacrifice  she  had  made  in 
returning,  since  she  was  now  able  to  repay  them  for  the 
many  years  of  gentle  care  and  training  of  her  childhood, 
cheering  them  with  her  bright,  young  companionship,  and 
relieving  them  of  the  duties  of  housekeeping. 

The  bishop  had  borne  the  loss  of  his  mother  with  fortitude 
and,  so  far  as  his  filial  emotions  went,  with  resignation; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  he  could  not  avoid  feeling  that  the 
good  lady's  departure  was  somewhat  ill-timed.  It  was  most 
unfortunate,  most  vexatious,  if  one  might  be  allowed  to 
say  so  of  any  such  direct  dispensation  of  Providence,  that 

324 


PRISONERS 

the  family  should  be  thrown  into  mourning  just  at  this 
moment  when  it  was  most  important  to  divert  Faith's  mind, 
to  give  her  a  taste  of  gay,  social  life  and  an  opportunity  to 
meet  some  agreeable  American  young  men.  He  wondered 
how  long  one  had  to  wear  mourning  for  a  grandmother. 
It  was  very  bad  for  a  young  girl  to  be  shut  off  from  all  the 
pleasures  of  youth  in  this  way.  She  would  mope  and  grow 
morbid  and  confirmed  in  all  her  vagaries. 

His  daughters  brought  him  some  comfort.  "You  cannot 
bring  out  a  girl  in  the  middle  of  the  season,"  they  told  him, 
"unless  you  are  very  rich  and  can  spring  a  sensation.  What 
she  must  do  now  is  to  look  up  her  old  school  friends.  She 
went  to  school  two  years  with  a  very  nice  set  of  girls  and 
belonged  to  their  'sewing  circle.'  She  can  go  to  that,  even 
in  mourning,  and  then  perhaps  be  invited  to  week-ends  at 
Beverly  and  Lenox  during  the  summer.  Next  winter,  when 
she  is  in  half -mourning,  she  can  join  the  dancing-class  of  her 
set  and  the  Vincent  Club;  and  if  she  makes  herself  popular 
with  the  girls  they  will  be  nice  to  her  and  invite  her  even  if 
she  hasn't  money,  for  family  and  brains  still  count  in  Boston. 
Brandon,  who  has  another  year  at  Harvard,  can  bring  a 
lot  of  nice  fellows  to  call  and  take  her  to  football  games, 
and  she  will  manage  to  have  quite  a  jolly  time  in  spite  of 
poor  Grandma ! " 

The  program  could  not  be  carried  out  quite  as  these 
thoughtful  young  ladies  planned  it.  The  bishop  and  his 
family,  living  in  another  city,  could  do  nothing  for  Faith; 
and  though  she  went  dutifully  to  the  sewing  circle  and  the 
French  club,  and  found  the  girls  friendly  and  pleasant  and 
ready  to  renew  old  acquaintance,  yet  she  could  not  make  up 
her  mind  to  accept  invitations  that  would  take  her  away  from 
home  while  her  aunts  were  so  sad.  Miss  Louisa  was  still 
active  and  soon  resumed  her  classes  in  Romance  literature, 
but  Miss  Adele,  formerly  more  brilliant  and  attractive  than 
her  sister,  had  aged  very  much  of  late  and  seemed  almost  too 

325 


FAITH  BRANDON 

feeble  to  take  her  part  in  the  work  they  had  formerly  shared. 
More  and  more  her  tasks  fell  upon  Faith's  young  shoulders. 

Brandon  Ludlow  had  welcomed  his  cousin's  return  with 
enthusiasm,  and  with  some  pride  brought  several  of  his 
college  friends  to  call  upon  the  pretty  and  charming  mannered 
girl;  but,  when  vacation  came,  he  confided  to  his  sisters 
that  it  "wouldn't  work." 

"The  fellows  won't  stand  for  it,"  he  said.  "Aunt  Adele 
and  Aunt  Louisa,  with  their  old-world  notions,  their  courtly 
airs  and  their  deep  mourning,  sit  in  the  parlor  in  their  high- 
back  chairs  all  the  time  we  are  there,  and  expect  to  take 
part  in  the  conversation.  Now  that  puts  a  blight  on  every- 
thing! The  fellows  feel  chills  coming  over  them,  and  of 
course  Faith  can't  ask  the  poor  old  ladies  to  stay  up  in  their 
rooms  while  she  entertains  the  men  downstairs.  If  we 
could  only  go  off  in  another  room  and  sing  college  songs,  or 
something  to  thaw  out  the  atmosphere;  but  the  house  is  too 
small,  and  Faithie  is  too  considerate  of  the  old  folks'  feelings. 
The  fellows  would  take  to  her  immensely  if  they  had  half  a 
chance,  but  I  can't  blame  them  if  they  don't  seem  very  keen 
about  calling  on  two  elderly  maiden  ladies,  swathed  in  crape 
and  conversing  like  'Elegant  Extracts.' " 

Faith  did  her  best  to  be  polite  to  her  cousin's  friends  and 
to  be  sympathetic  about  their  sports  and  college  interests, 
but  she  found  it  difficult.  They  seemed  so  much  younger, 
so  much  less  formed  in  mind  and  manners  than  the  young 
men  she  had  been  thrown  with  during  the  past  year.  No 
doubt  she  was  a  little  spoiled,  but  many  things  combined 
to  make  her  very  homesick  for  those  she  had  left  behind  on 
the  other  side.  Everything  in  her  aunts'  house,  with  its 
old-world  associations,  served  to  remind  her  of  her  loss. 
Here,  in  her  own  home  city,  no  one  knew  or  suspected  the 
interests  that  were  to  her  of  vital  concern ;  she  felt  more  like 
a  stranger  than  she  had  in  a  strange  land.  And  especially 
at  this  time  was  it  hard  for  her,  when  all  about  her  were  so 

326 


PRISONERS 

strongly  pro- Japan  in  their  sympathies,  lauding  that  nation 
to  the  skies,  belittling  Russia,  and  gloating  over  her  reverses 
in  the  war.  Faith  was  prepared  for  these  reverses.  They 
were  what  Lyova  had  foreseen.  He  had  explained  the 
reason  therefor  and  the  certainty  that  the  great  white 
race  must  conquer  in  time,  but  none  of  those  she  met  cared 
to  listen  to  her  explanation.  She  had  to  learn  to  keep  silent, 
to  endure  hearing  Russia  reviled,  slandered,  held  up  to  scorn, 
while  to  the  foe  were  attributed  virtues  and  glories  raising 
them  to  something  above  the  earth,  to  demigods  and  su- 
permen. She  had  not  even  the  comforts  of  her  religion. 

It  was  fortunate  for  Faith  that  she  had  a  kind  and  re- 
sourceful friend  in  her  stepbrother.  A  habit  once  formed 
is  hard  to  drop,  and  Rupert  thought  it  well  to  keep  up  his 
correspondence  with  Natalia  Petrovna,  whom  he  remem- 
bered as  a  sensible,  agreeable,  well-bred  woman  of  fine  bearing, 
and  whose  letters  showed  her  to  be  sympathetic,  intelligent, 
full  of  kindly  feeling  toward  Faith  and  devotion  to  her 
brother.  Through  her  he  kept  in  touch  with  Solntsoff ,  and 
was  able  to  assure  Faith  from  time  to  time  of  his  well-being, 
and  also  to  send  her  word  that  the  prince  believed  it  more 
honorable  not  to  write  to  her  until  she  could  obtain  her 
father's  explicit  consent  to  their  correspondence.  He 
enclosed  to  her  copies  of  her  father's  two  letters  to  him,  and 
of  the  reply  in  which  he  had  bound  himself  to  an  additional 
year  of  waiting.  To  Faith  these  letters  came  as  a  shock. 
She  had  written  repeatedly  to  her  father,  begging  him  for 
an  explanation  to  give  her  uncle,  but  he  had  postponed 
replying  till  his  return. 

Mr.  Brandon  had  been  delayed  in  Europe  till  autumn,  and 
his  return  brought  no  good  to  Faith.  Fortified  by  his  daugh- 
ter Genevieve's  counsel  at  home,  and,  abroad,  by  the  in- 
flexible logic  of  the  bishop's  letters,  he  held  his  ground  with 
Faith.  Whenever  he  felt  himself  weakening,  the  thought 
of  the  contempt  these  mentors  would  have  for  him  stiffened 

327 


FAITH  BRANDON 

him  to  firmness.  It  was  agreed  by  them  that  the  test  must 
be  absolute.  Not  only  must  there  be  no  interchange  of 
letters  but  Faith  must  surrender  to  him  the  souvenirs  of 
her  engagement,  the  betrothal  ring,  her  lover's  photograph, 
the  cross  and  chain  that  he  had  given  her  to  wear  about  her 
neck  after  the  religious  custom  of  the  Russians.  Then  came 
the  hardest  blow.  Mr.  Brandon  could  not  forbid  her 
exchanging  letters  with  Rupert,  but  he  put  her  on  her  honor 
not  to  mention  Solntsoff's  name  in  them,  not  to  send  him  or 
receive  from  him  any  messages,  directly  or  indirectly. 

And  Faith  submitted,  though  it  seemed  like  tearing  out 
her  heart,  for  she  believed  that  Lyeff  Petrovich,  brought  up 
as  he  was  with  the  almost  patriarchal  respect  for  a  parent's 
blessing  that  marks  the  old  conservative  families  of  Russia, 
would  think  it  her  duty  to  obey  until  she  was  of  legal  age. 
In  everything  she  would  try  to  live  up  to  his  ideal  for  her. 

And  so  the  months  of  the  winter  passed,  and  Faith  changed 
with  the  passing  months  from  wholesome,  rosy  girlhood 
to  a  thinner,  more  pensive,  more  spiritualized  womanhood. 
Morning  and  night  and  many  times  a  day  she  turned  her 
face  toward  Russia  and,  holding  out  her  hands,  begged  God 
to  bless  her  Big  Friend,  to  give  them  both  strength  to  endure 
and  to  trust,  and,  in  His  Mercy,  to  shorten  their  trial. 

It  was  early  in  the  first  month  of  spring  that  she  was 
called  to  the  telephone  by  a  message  from  the  City  Hos- 
pital. 

"Yes,  I  am  Miss  Faith  Brandon.  What  do  you  want  of 
me?"  she  asked. 

"We  should  like  you  to  call  and  see  if  you  can  identify 
a  patient  who  has  just  been  brought  in  from  the  Montreal 
train  in  a  collapsed  condition.  He  is  unable  to  speak  01 
make  a  sign,  and  the  only  possible  means  of  identification 
is  an  envelope  addressed  to  'Miss  Faith  Brandon,  Mt.  Vernon 
St.,  Boston.'  The  train  men  think  he  is  a  Hungarian." 

"A  Hungarian?"  repeated  Faith,  agitated  and  wonder- 

328 


PRISONERS 

ing.  "I  will  come  of  course,  as  soon  as  possible,  but  can  you 
give  me  some  description  of  him?  I  cannot  think  of  any 
one  it  is  likely  to  be." 

"He  has  a  heavy,  dark  beard  and  iron-gray  hair.  His 
eyes  are  closed,  so  we  cannot  judge  of  their  color.  He  is 
five  feet  eleven  and  a  half  inches  in  height,  and  has  a  large 
frame,  much  shrunken  from  exposure  and  lack  of  nourish- 
ment. His  clothes  were  coarse  and  worn,  but  he  looks  like 
a  man  of  refinement.  He  was  practically  penniless,  yet  he 
was  wearing  under  his  shirt  a  handsome,  solid  gold,  enameled 
cross  about  four  inches  long,  hung  from  his  neck  by  a  common 
piece  of  twine." 

Faith  gave  a  start,  and  subdued  the  exclamation  that  rose 
to  her  lips.  The  metal  cross  worn  about  the  neck  was  a 
religious  emblem  borne  by  Russians  of  all  ranks.  The  man 
must  be  a  Russian.  But  why  should  he  have  a  letter  to  her? 

"I  do  not  recognize  the  description,"  she  said,  "but  I 
will  be  at  the  hospital  within  half  an  hour.  Is  there  hope 
of  saving  him,  or  is  he  dying?  " 

"We  have  hope.  The  exhaustion  is  great,  but  there  is 
no  disease,  no  injury  save  a  gunshot  wound  in  the  shoulder, 
nearly  healed.  Organically  he  is  absolutely  sound  and 
healthy.  He  has  a  really  splendid  physique,  and  we  are  all 
interested  to  get  him  on  his  feet.  It  is  the  heart  action  which 
has  been  weakened  by  extraordinary  privation  and  ex- 
posure." 

With  a  hurried  explanation  to  her  aunts  that  some  poor 
immigrant,  who  was  dying,  had  a  message  of  some  sort  for 
her,  Faith  hastened  to  the  hospital,  where  she  was  at'once 
taken  to  the  men's  surgical  ward.  She  was  led  to  a  bed  at 
the  quietest  end  of  the  big,  airy  room.  The  face  she  saw  on 
the  pillow  was  of  waxen  pallor,  the  lips  blue,  the  closed  eyes 
sunken  and  encircled  by  dark  shadows.  The  features  were 
pinched,  the  cheeks  hollow,  the  long,  tangled  dark  hair 
that  fell  loosely  over  the  brow  was  streaked  with  gray,  a 

329 


FAITH  BRANDON 

rough,  dark  beard  hid  the  mouth  and  chin.  Faith  stood 
long  studying  the  face  that,  in  its  pallor  and  stillness,  might 
have  been  that  of  a  corpse. 

"I  cannot  identify  him,"  she  said  at  last.  "I  have  never 
seen  his  face  before." 

At  the  sound  of  her  voice  a  sort  of  tremor  seemed  to 
pass  over  the  corpse-like  figure.  Suddenly  the  eyes  opened 
and  looked  straight  up  into  hers,  large,  brilliant  eyes  of  dark- 
est gray,  with  a  heavy  fringe  of  jet  black  lashes. 

"Youri!"  exclaimed  Faith.     "Youri  von  Dovsprung!" 

Overcome  by  the  suddenness  of  the  recognition,  she  slid 
to  her  knees  by  the  bedside  and  the  tears  rushed  to  her 
eyes.  She  laid  one  hand  over  his  thin,  brown  fingers,  with 
the  other  she  brushed  the  hair  across  his  brow  in  the  old 
familiar  sweep.  "George,"  she  called  softly  in  German, 
"do  you  recognize  little  Fides?" 

A  faint  ghost  of  a  smile  crept  over  the  drawn,  pallid 
features,  his  eyes  still  sought  hers,  his  lips  moved  feebly. 
"Backfischly!"  he  whispered. 


330 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

VYERA 

"When  on  my  brow  death's  cooling  airs  blow  free 
And  all  my  days  except  the  last  are  fled, 
I  have  a  wish  with  upturned  face  to  see 
Thy  gracious  form  bent  o'er  my  dying  head, 
While  in  thy  murmured  words  my  soul  might  hear 
Echoes  of  angels'  voices  rolling  near." 

-  Holmes. 

"Ir  ANY  one  can  save  him,  you  can,"  said  the  surgeon. 
They  had  taken  Dovsprung  out  of  the  ward  and  placed  him 
in  a  private  room,  and  appointed  special  nurses  for  him 
night  and  day. 

"When  we  have  done  everything  that  skill  and  care  can 
do,  then  we  come  to  the  psychological  point  where  you  can 
do  more  than  any  one  of  us.  We  had  little  hope  of  pulling 
him  through  that  last  collapse,  but  the  sound  of  your  voice 
recalled  him  to  life.  If  you  can  arrange,  Miss  Brandon,  to 
be  within  reach,  to  be  near  him  as  much  as  possible  during 
the  next  forty-eight  hours,  it  will  be  half  the  battle." 

"I  will  stay,"  said  Faith.  "If  you  will  keep  me  here 
at  the  hospital,  I  will  sit  up  all  night  and  be  at  your  call 
every  moment." 

There  proved  to  be  a  private  room  vacant  which  she 
could  have,  and  after  sending  a  messenger  with  a  note  of 
explanation  to  her  aunts  and  to  bring  her  what  was  necessary, 
she  took  up  her  post  at  the  sick  man's  side.  He  had  bright- 
ened so  perceptibly  in  her  presence  that  they  urged  her  to 
be  almost  uninterruptedly  in  the  room  while  his  life  hung 
in  the  balance. 

Much  faintness  and  sinking,  frequent  collapses  and 
wonderful  rallyings,  made  up  the  record  of  those  critical 


FAITH  BRANDON 

days.  Again  and  again  he  seemed  so  far  gone  that  only 
her  voice  called  back  his  spirit  to  the  inanimate  form.  In 
one  of  these  rallyings  the  memory  came  to  her  of  Lyova's 
illness,  when  the  consolations  of  religion  had  been  brought 
to  his  bedside,  summoned  in  the  same  instant  as  the  phy- 
sician, and  how  marked  the  change  for  the  better  had  been 
from  the  moment  the  priests  had  anointed  him  with  the 
Seven  Holy  Unctions.  She  knew  that  in  Russia  even  those 
who,  in  health,  were  indifferent  or  worse  turned  in  their 
last  hours  to  Mother  Church,  and  tenderly  and  beautifully 
the  Church  ministered  to  them. 

She  bent  over  Dovsprung  and  took  his  hand  in 
hers. 

"Youri  Andrevich,"  she  whispered  in  Russian,  "can  you 
hear  me?  Press  my  hand  if  it  hurts  you  to  talk." 

His  thin,  nerveless  ringers  faintly  pressed  hers. 

"Would  it  comfort  you  to  have  a  clergyman  come  to  see 
you?" 

For  a  moment  there  was  no  answering  pressure. 

"I  know  it  is  an  Uniat  that  you  would  want,"  she  added 
hastily,  "but  if  there  is  no  Russian  Uniat  priest  in  Boston, 
I  can  telegraph  to  New  York,  and  one  will  be  here  by 
this  evening." 

Still  no  pressure.  Then  she  noticed  that  his  lips  were 
moving  and  she  bent  her  ear  close  to  his  mouth. 

"Any  Catholic  will  do,"  he  gasped,  in  a  hoarse  whisper, 
"so  long  as  I  die  —  in  union  —  with  Rome!" 

"You  are  not  going  to  die,  Youri  Andrevich!"  she  said, 
confidently.  "You  are  going  to  get  well,  the  Holy  Unction 
will  bring  you  health  with  God's  blessing.  A  French  or 
German  speaking  priest  will  soon  be  here.  Rouse  yourself, 
dear  Youri!  Have  faith!  You  will  be  healed!" 

She  felt  a  slight  pressure  on  her  fingers.  She  saw  that 
his  lips  were  moving  again. 

"If  I   am  —  unconscious  —  tell   him  —  I   am  penitent! 

332 


VYERA 

Turn  my  bed  —  to  the  East  —  and  let  me  die  —  with  my 
face  —  toward  —  beloved   Russia! " 

The  effort  was  too  much.  The  nurse  came  hastily  for- 
ward with  restoratives,  for  he  had  nearly  collapsed.  When 
he  had  revived  somewhat,  a  faint  smile  crept  over  his  fea- 
tures, as  he  saw  that  they  had  changed  the  position  of 
the  bed. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  priest  arrived,  a  French  father 
from  the  Jesuit  College  near  by.  Faith  and  the  nurse 
stepped  out  into  the  corridor  while  he  bent  over  the  sick 
man  to  confess  and  absolve  him.  Then  he  signaled  them 
to  re-enter  while  he  administered  Extreme  Unction. 

The  Latin  rite,  which  Faith  saw  for  the  first  time,  was 
short  and  simple  in  contrast  to  the  elaborate  and  impressive 
ceremony  of  the  Slavonic.  The  priest  said  the  ritual  words 
softly  in  Latin  and  repeated  them  aloud  in  French  as  he 
anointed  with  oil  the  feet  and  hands,  the  breast  and  the 
organs  of  the  five  senses,  and  prayed  for  the  remission  of 
the  sick  man's  sins,  and  for  his  restoration  to  health  if  God 
so  willed.  The  very  brevity  and  simplicity  of  the  rite  had 
a  certain  suitableness  to  the  plain  hospital  room,  and  the 
weak  condition  of  the  patient.  After  all,  a  sacrament  is  a 
sacrament,  it  loses  none  of  its  holy  significance  be  it  admin- 
istered with  few  words  or  many  by  him  to  whom  due  power 
is  given. 

The  priest  in  secular  dress,  with  no  sign  of  his  office  but 
the  slender  stole  round  his  neck,  the  rapidly  spoken  words, 
the  intense  quiet  of  the  narrow,  scantily  furnished  room, 
the  gathering  of  Russian  patient,  French  priest,  German 
nurse  and  Irish  orderly,  all  strangers,  but  united  in  the 
One  Fold,  formed  a  marked  contrast  to  that  other  scene  in 
the  luxurious  palace,  where  all  were  of  one  nation  and  one 
national  church,  the  gorgeous  robes  of  the  clergy,  the  chant- 
ing of  the  deacons,  the  lights,  the  censers,  the  varied  cere- 
monials. Youri  Andrevich  would  have  had  the  same  in 

333 


FAITH  BRANDON 

his  own  land,  but  here,  in  a  foreign  country,  he  was  content 
and  at  peace,  for  he  was  a  son  of  that  Church  which  is 
universal,  not  national.  The  kindly  priest  was  no  stranger, 
but  a  fellow-man  and  brother,  and  they  all,  Slav  and  Celt, 
Teuton  and  Gaul,  were  but  pilgrims  on  their  way  to  the 
heavenly  Home  under  the  guidance  of  one  Father,  sheep 
of  one  flock,  under  one  Pastor. 

From  that  hour  Dovsprung's  improvement  was  marked, 
the  collapses  were  farther  apart  and  less  alarming,  the 
periods  of  rallying  longer  and  stronger,  and  by  the  eighth 
day  the  physicians  pronounced  the  patient  out  of  danger. 
They  were  full  of  cheerful  satisfaction.  It  had  been  an  in- 
teresting case,  and  he  was  a  man  well  worth  saving. 

But  the  patient  looked  neither  so  cheerful  nor  so  sat- 
isfied. 

"Why  did  they  not  let  me  die?"  he  complained  to  Faith, 
"my  soul  shriven,  your  dear  arms  supporting  me!  Oh, 
Fides,  why  must  I  come  back  to  my  lonely  struggle?  I  have 
faced  death  so  often,  I  would  have  given  my  life  so  gladly, 
so  gayly,  for  beloved  Russia!  In  the  darkest  hours  your 
presence  was  with  me  in  spirit,  and  now  that  it  is  a  blessed 
reality,  Death  has  played  me  false!" 

The  end  of  the  third  week  saw  him  sitting  up  in  bed.  It 
was  a  great  occasion,  for  as  a  surprise  to  Faith,  who  was  now 
at  home  again  but  who  visited  him  daily,  he  had  been  shaven 
save  for  his  moustache,  and  had  his  hair  closely  cut  and 
brushed  across  the  brow  in  the  old  familiar  way. 

As  he  lay  there,  propped  up  in  a  half-sitting  position, 
his  dark,  glossy  head  outlined  against  the  white  pillows, 
the  lines  of  suffering  gone  from  his  face,  the  hollow 
places  fast  filling  out,  Faith  thought  him  handsomer  even 
than  in  the  old  days.  His  well-cut  features  were  spiritual- 
ized and  refined  by  pain  and  sorrow,  and  the  somewhat 
bold  brilliancy  of  his  eyes  was  softened  and  shadowed. 
She  came  to  his  bedside,  radiant  with  the  pleasure  she  felt 

334 


VYERA 

in  seeing  him  so  nearly  restored  to  his  former  health  and 
beauty. 

"  Ah,  how  good  it  is  to  see  you  like  your  old  self  once 
more!  You  have  never  yet  told  me  what  happened  to  reduce 
you  to  such  terrible  straits  and  how  you  came  to  wander 
here.  Do  you  feel  strong  enough  now  to  give  me  the 
story?"  she  asked,  as  she  took  a  seat  facing  him. 

"Hardly,  I  would  rather  you  talked  to  me,"  he  replied 
unwillingly.  "Yet  you  ought  to  know.  I  had  reached 

C ,  a  Chinese  port,  just  before  the  war  broke  out. 

We  had  two  warships  there  and  the  night  of  my  arrival  some 
of  my  friends  on  the  ships  came  ashore  to  have  supper  with 
me.  We  were  talking  over  the  possibility  of  war  and  where 
we  were  likely  to  be  ordered,  but  we  had  no  thought  of  any 
immediate  trouble,  when  word  came  that  the  Japanese  fleet 
was  outside  the  harbor  and  summoned  our  ships  to  surrender 
or  disarm.  Several  officers  from  other  warships,  German 
and  English,  were  with  us  at  table  when  the  summons  came 
like  a  bolt  from  a  clear  sky.  It  was  a  most  affecting  scene, 
Fides.  Our  commander  replied  that  he  would  neither 
surrender  to  the  Japanese  nor  would  he  accept  the  shelter 
of  a  neutral  port  to  disarm.  He  would  go  out  and  fight! 
Of  course  it  meant  death  to  all, —  two  cruisers  against  a 
big  fleet  of  battleships!  I  simply  had  to  go  with  them,  I 
could  not  desert  friends,  I  might  as  well  die  for  Russia  then 
as  later.  But  the  German  and  English  fellows  broke  down 
completely  to  see  us  go.  They  wept,  they  cheered,  they 
took  us  up  on  their  shoulders " 

He  stopped,  from  fatigue  and  emotion.  Faith,  all  flushed 
and  tearful  from  sympathy,  begged  him  to  rest,  to  tell  her 
another  time. 

"It  didn't  take  long  to  finish  us,"  he  said,  with  a  sad 
smile.  "The  whole  fleet  opened  fire  on  us.  The  scenes 
were  too  terrible  to  describe.  The  captain  opened  the 
valves  to  sink  the  ships  before  they  should  be  captured* 

335 


I  should  have  liked  to  go  down  with  the  ship,  but  a  fellow 
who  couldn't  swim  had  clutched  me  by  the  belt,  and  I  had 
to  try  to  keep  alive  and  seek  safety  for  his  sake.  We  were 
picked  up  by  Japanese  boats.  They  took  good  care  of  us, 
and  they,  too,  cheered  and  gave  us  an  ovation.  But  it  was 
a  hateful  thing  to  feel  one's  self  a  prisoner.  I  would  far 
rather  have  been  killed." 

"But  you  are  free  and  safe  now,"  said  Faith,  with  a 
half-sob. 

"There  are  tunes  when  one  does  not  want  to  be  safe," 
he  sighed.  "The  few  of  us  who  were  rescued  from  that 
carnage  refused  to  give  parole.  We  wanted  to  be  able  to 
fight  again  if  we  could  escape,  so  we  were  shipped  to  a  Jap- 
anese prison.  There  we  stagnated  for  five  weary  months 
till  they  removed  us  to  another  prison,  when  five  of  us 
managed  to  dive  from  the  transport.  Two  were  caught, 
and  one  was  shot  and  drowned;  but  two  of  us  were  lucky 
enough  to  get  away,  though  I  was  hit  in  the  shoulder,  and 
after  about  three  hours  in  the  water  we  took  refuge  on  a 
Chinese  junk.  We  had  no  money  and  they  would  not  go 
out  of  their  way  to  land  us  for  several  weeks.  At  this 
Chinese  port  I  was  ill  for  two  months  from  inflammation  in 
my  wounded  shoulder.  We  lost  more  time  in  vain  efforts 
to  reach  Russian  territory  by  land.  It  was  useless  to  at- 
tempt to  get  passports  as  Russians.  We  tried  all  kinds  of 
disguises,  but  the  Chinese  officials  were  very  watchful  and 
suspicious,  and  we  were  caught,  and  two  or  three  times 
came  near  having  our  heads  chopped  off.  Finally,  I  passed 
myself  off  as  a  German,  and  shipped  as  a  stoker  on  a  steamer 
bound  for  Vancouver." 

"A  stoker!  Graf  von  Dovsprung,  arbiter  elegantiarum, 
a  stoker!" 

"A  good  disguise,  was  it  not?"  he  said,  ruefully.  "Well, 
our  vessel  was  wrecked  on  the  Columbian  coast.  The  long 
exposure,  added  to  what  I  had  been  through  before,  brought 

336 


VYERA 

on  another  illness,  an  ignominious  ending  to  a  pitiable  year. 

0  God!    What  a  wretched  record  for  a  soldier!    We  had 
escaped  in  —  practically  nothing,  and  the  first  civilized  spot 
we  reached  I  sold  the  gold  chain  from  which  my  cross  hung. 
It  bought  me  a  rough,  workman's  suit,  and  an  emigrant 
ticket  to  Montreal.    There  I  was  stranded  again  for  want 
of  money.    I  could  not  let  it  be  known  I  was  a  Russian 
officer,  or  I  should  have  been  held  in  a  neutral  port  and  not 
permitted  to  return  to  the  seat  of  war.     I  was  too  weakened 
by  privation  to  ship  again  as  sailor  or  stoker,  so  I  tried  in 
one  way  or  another  to  earn  enough  for  a  steerage  passage 
to  Europe.    Then  came  my  first  collapse." 

He  paused  again  for  breath.  Faith  brought  him  his 
stimulant,  and  insisted  on  his  having  some  broth  and  a 
little  rest  before  he  finished  his  story.  How  pitiful  it  was 
to  see  this  gallant,  dashing  officer  reduced  to  such  weakness 
and  dependence! 

"I  thought  I  was  dying  there,  alone,"  he  resumed,  looking 
up  at  her  pathetically.  "I  read  the  papers  eagerly  for  war 
news,  and  it  did  not  help  me  to  get  well.  I  used  to  cry  like 
a  child  over  my  country's  trouble  and  my  own  cursed  im- 
potence. Then  one  day  the  paper  had  mention  of  your 
name,  a  little  item  saying  that  a  young  Montreal  lady  had 
returned  from  visiting  Miss  Faith  Brandon,  in  Boston,  at 
her  aunts'  residence.  Can  you  imagine,  Fides,  what  it  was 
to  me  to  find  myself  so  near  you?  If  I  was  to  die  I  hoped  it 
might  be  in  your  arms,  or,  if  I  did  not  live  to  reach  you,  that 
you  would  at  least  see  me  buried  and  say  a  prayer  for  me. 

1  put  the  few  dollars  I  had  earned  into  a  ticket  for  Boston, 
hung  my  crucifix  around  my  neck  that  they  might  know  me 
for  a  Christian,  and  put  your  address  in  a  conspicuous  place. 
Then  I  staggered  on  to  the  train.    They  were  kind  to  me. 
I  don't  know  at  what  period  of  the  journey  I  collapsed,  but 
I  knew  nothing  more  till  I  heard  the  blessed  tones  of  your 
sweet  voice.     Oh,  Fides,  Fides,  my  beloved!    I  had  wished 

337 


FAITH  BRANDON 

to  die  in  your  arms,  but  I  had  to  live,  for  my  soul  knew  your 
voice  and  rushed  to  meet  you  from  the  grave!" 

It  broke  Faith's  tender  heart  to  see  the  look  in  his  eyes,  to 
know  that  he  loved  her  so!  Oh,  if  she  could  only  console 
this  man's  sick  and  lonely  spirit!  Lyova,  far  away  in  St. 
Petersburg,  in  the  safety  and  comfort  of  his  civilian  calling, 
healthy  and  well-fed,  with  relatives  and  friends  about  him, 
did  not  seem  to  need  her  aid.  This  poor,  broken,  heroic 
soldier,  whose  life  Fate  had  laid  between  her  hands,  did 
need  her  and,  shaken  to  the  soul  with  pity,  it  seemed  as  if 
she  should  hesitate  at  no  sacrifice  to  comfort  him! 

The  sound  of  his  voice  came  to  her,  weak  and  hoarse, 
but  with  a  thrill  of  eagerness  in  it.  "Fides!  What  does 
it  all  mean?  You  are  not  yet  married  —  you  are  not  wear- 
ing your  betrothal  ring  —  for  God's  sake,  how  does  it  stand 
between  you  and  Solntsoff?" 

Faith  heard  the  thrill  in  his  voice  and  knew  that  the 
decisive  moment  had  come.  Now  or  never  she  must  close 
the  door  of  hope  to  him.  Her  gentle  ministrations,  her  com- 
passion, her  tenderness  had  been  given  and  received  in  all 
innocence  and  loyalty  while  he  was  still  in  the  shadow  of 
death.  But  to  continue  now  to  give  way  to  that  pity 
which  is  akin  to  love  would  but  encourage  his  reviving 
passion,  to  hesitate  now  would  mean  to  promise  herself  to 
him.  Oh,  it  was  cruel  that  this  little  bit  of  hope  should 
have  crept  into  his  heart!  How  could  she  give  his  poor, 
broken  spirit  another  blow? 

"We  —  we  are  still  betrothed  before  God  and  our  own 
hearts,"  she  forced  herself  to  say,  between  half-stifled  sobs. 
"My  father  has  broken  our  engagement  unconditionally, 
and  I  cannot  marry  without  his  consent  till  I  am  twenty- 
one,  but  neither  of  us  has  agreed  to  consider  it  broken.  Oh, 
Youri,  I  am  so  —  so  unhappy !  We  cannot  write  each 
other  —  it  is  so  hard,  so  hard!"  and  she  bent  her  head  and 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

338 


VY£RA 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Youri  Andrevich  had  turned 
his  head  aside  and  closed  his  eyes.  When  at  last  he  opened 
them  once  more  and  spoke,  his  voice,  though  still  weak,  was 
quite  steady  again. 

"Poor  little  Fides!"  he  murmured.  "You  have  been 
very  unselfish  in  your  kindness  to  this  poor  wreck  of  a  man, 
and  never  let  him  know  in  all  these  weeks  how  sorrowful 
your  own  gentle  spirit  was!"  He  stretched  out  his  hand 
over  her  head,  not  touching  it,  but  hovering  just  above  it, 
as  if  in  blessing.  "Can  I  be  of  any  use  or  comfort  to  you, 
Fides?" 

Surprised  and  frightened  by  the  strength  of  her  emotion 
Faith  struggled  to  regain  her  composure,  and  rising,  walked 
over  to  the  window.  When  she  turned  back  again  a  mo- 
ment later,  she  was  quite  calm  and  smiling  sadly. 

"You  have  already  given  me  comfort,  dear  Youri," 
she  said,  softly.  "I  have  been  so  glad  to  nurse  you,  for  the 
sake  of  beloved  Russia,  for  the  sake  of  all  who  have  known 
and  loved  you  there,  and  for  your  own  dear  sake.  For  you 
are  dearer  to  me  than  I  can  well  tell  you.  I  can  hardly 
understand  it  myself " 

"But  I  understand,"  he  interrupted,  closing  his  eyes 
wearily.  "You  pity  me!  Your  tender  heart  is  full  of  com- 
passion for  me,  you  have  become  attached  to  this  poor 
wreck  of  humanity  whom  you  have  twice  rescued,  once  from 
the  death  of  the  soul,  and  now  from  the  death  of  the  body. 
You  would  sacrifice  your  happiness  to  mine,  were  it  only 
right  for  you  to  do  so;  you  would  not  have  the  heart  to  deny 
me,  were  it  not  that  another  man's  happiness  depends  upon 
your  fidelity,  and  that  for  him  you  feel,  not  pity  —  but  love! 
I  understand  it  all  only  too  well,  Fides!  Do  not  be  unhappy 
about  me.  At  least,"  he  smiled  a  little  bitterly,  "I  may 
feel  I  have  brought  you  some  comfort  in  reminding  you  of 
Russia  and  of  Lyeff  Petrovich,  may  I  not? "  and  he  looked 
up  inquiringly  at  her  sad,  sweet  face. 

339 


FAITH  BRANDON 

She  bent  her  head  gently,  but  did  not  answer  in  words. 
It  seemed  to  Dovsprung  as  if  in  that  moment  he  expiated 
all  the  sins  of  vanity  and  presumption  of  his  entire  life,  he 
who  had  been  so  courted  and  so  loved!  He  sighed  pro- 
foundly. \ 

"Oh,  forgive  me,  Youri,  I  am  a  poor  nurse,  indeed,  to 
let  you  get  so  fatigued,"  she  exclaimed,  penitently.  "  But 
I  am  going  to  send  some  one  to  see  you  to-morrow  who 
will  be  very  cheering  and  strong,  and  who  can  perhaps  be 
of  use  to  you  in  a  practical  way;  and  until  then  I  will  sur- 
render you  to  a  better  nurse  than  I."  And  she  stepped  to 
the  corridor  to  call  the  attendant. 

That  evening  she  telephoned  Brandon  Ludlow  to  join  her 
at  dinner.  Youri  Andrevich  would,  of  course,  need  some 
man  friend  to  provide  him  with  money  and  clothes  and  to 
help  him  in  many  practical  details,  for  he  would  not  wish 
to  apply  to  the  Russian  consul  at  a  neutral  port  for  fear  of 
embarrassing  him.  Brandy  was  just  the  fellow!  He  liked 
adventure,  he  had  plenty  of  money,  and  he  could  keep  a 
secret.  Why  had  she  not  thought  of  him  before? 

During  dinner  the  conversation  was  general,  for  the 
aunts  still  supposed  her  patient  at  the  hospital  to  be  some 
poor  emigrant.  After  dinner  Miss  Adele,  ensconced  in  her 
high  armchair  by  the  fire,  worked  for  a  while  at  her  em- 
broidery frame,  till  at  last  her  head  nodded,  her  eyes  closed 
and  her  hands  fell  idly  in  her  lap.  Miss  Louisa  sat  by  the 
lamp  at  the  writing-table  and  prepared  some  notes  for  a 
new  lecture  on  Camoens.  Faith,  having  duly  poked  the 
fire  and  lighted  the  lamp  for  her  aunts,  and  brought  out  the 
reference  books,  drew  Brandon  off  to  a  quiet  corner  and  con- 
fided to  him  about  the  fugitive. 

Brandon  was  delighted  with  the  confidence,  and  touched 
and  interested  by  the  wanderings  of  Dovsprung,  whom  he 
remembered  well  from  the  meeting  on  the  Black  Sea  steamer, 
and  the  day  at  Odessa.  He  was  glad  to  serve  Faith  and 

340 


VYERA 

pleased  to  play  a  part  in  an  adventure.  He  went  to  the 
hospital  the  next  morning  armed  with  a  note  from  his  cousin, 
and  placed  himself,  his  tailor,  his  automobile  and  his  bank 
account  at  Dovsprung's  disposal. 

"He  is  a  corking  good  fellow,"  he  told  Faith,  enthusiasti- 
cally on  his  return.  "He  accepted  me  unconditionally, 
the  machine  with  effusion,  and  the  bank  account  with 
reservations;  but  we  understand  each  other  perfectly.  I 
found  him  sitting  up  in  a  rocking-chair,  swathed  in  hideous 
hospital  blankets,  and  clothed  in  an  unspeakable  hospital 
shirt,  like  some  old  pauper.  I  have  sent  him  down  a  Morris 
chair,  some  decent  linen  and  a  ripping  bathrobe.  My  tailor 
is  to  take  his  measures  this  afternoon.  Rotten  food,  too, 
they're  giving  him,  nothing  but  slops  and  chops!  I've  sent 
up  some  birds,  a  dozen  pints  of  champagne  and  a  basket  of 
fruit." 

Faith  let  the  day  pass  without  going  to  the  hospital.  The 
patient  would  have  had  enough,  she  thought,  with  Brandon's 
breezy  visit.  Besides,  he  did  not  really  need  her  now,  and 
was  it  quite  just,  quite  true  either  to  him,  to  herself,  or  to 
the  man  who  had  received  her  promise,  for  her  to  spend  so 
much  time  in  Dovsprung's  company? 

Again  and  again,  throughout  the  day  and  through  many 
wakeful  hours  of  the  night,  his  pale,  handsome  face,  with  its 
great,  sad,  pleading  eyes,  came  before  her  vision;  his  voice, 
so  weak  and  yet  with  that  thrill  of  emotion  in  it,  sounded 
in  her  ears.  He  —  he  loved  her  so ! 

Then  she  would  resolutely  close  her  eyes  to  the  present. 
She  no  longer  saw  Youri  Andrevich  lying  there  in  illness, 
loneliness  and  poverty,  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  with 
none  but  her  to  care.  She  no  longer  thought  of  Lyeff  Pet- 
rovich  as  safe,  comfortable,  at  liberty  among  his  own  people, 
loving  and  loved.  Her  mind  traveled  back  to  that  other 
scene  when,  once  before,  she  had  been  called  upon  to  make 
a  choice  between  these  same  two  men.  She  saw  the  dash- 

341" 


FAITH  BRANDON 

ing  figure  of  Graf  von  Dovsprung,  the  worldling  and  liber- 
tine, stalwart  and  proud  in  his  splendid  uniform  and  glisten- 
ing orders,  while  stretched  on  the  floor  at  her  feet  she  seemed 
to  see  the  white,  lifeless  form  of  Solntsoff,  stricken  down  in 
the  midst  of  health  and  strength  by  the  shock  of  her  sup- 
posed inconstancy! 

A  sharp  spasm  seemed  to  grip  her  heart,  she  lifted  her 
head  and  threw  out  her  arms  with  a  little  cry  of  pain. 

"Lyova!"  she  gasped,  "Lyova!  it  is  not  as  you  think! 
Dear,  Big  Friend!  your  Little  Comrade  is  staunch  and  true! 
Oh,  Lyova,  my  first  love,  my  last,  my  only  love,  there  is  no 
one  else!  No  one  shall  ever  come  between  us!" 

And  then  she  would  sink  on  her  knees,  and  pray  God  to 
help  them  all,  and  cry  as  if  her  heart  were  breaking! 


342 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

TRUE    LOVE 

aLut  oh,  my  Heart!  my  heart's  Desire! 

My  ungained  dream  divine! 
That  never  turned  the  while  I  yearned, 
Nor  closed  her  hand  in  mine." 

—  Garrison. 

WHEN  Faith  returned  to  the  hospital  two  days  later  she 
found  her  patient  not  quite  so  well. 

"He  has  been  over-exerting  himself;  he  would  write  a 
long  letter  yesterday,  and  nearly  collapsed  after  it,"  they 
told  her. 

"Do  not  scold  me!"  he  said;  holding  out  his  hand  and 
smiling  cheerfully.  "Now  that  you  are  here  I  am  all  right 
again.  Let  me  first  thank  you  for  sending  your  cousin  to 
me.  I  had  been  worrying  about  many  things  which  he  has 
taken  off  my  mind.  Now  I  will  confess  what  I  have  done. 
Can  you  divine? '' 

"No,"  she  said,  though  with  a"  little  flutter  of  pre- 
monition. 

"I  have  written  Lyova,"  he  explained,  watching  with  a 
certain  sad  pleasure  the  color  that  flooded  her  cheeks.  "I 
told  him  everything  that  I  had  heard  from  you,  and  much 
that  your  cousin  told  me  in  addition.  I  described  to  him 
how  you  looked,  how  you  suffered  in  the  deprivation  of  news 
from  him.  I  told  him  about  the  trials  you  were  undergoing, 
but  said  that  nothing  could  divide  your  heart  from  him,  not 
even  the  angelic  compassion  of  your  tender  woman's  soul 
for  the  unhappy  lover  you  had  so  devotedly  nursed  back 
from  the  grave."  He  sighed.  "  He  ought  to  be  a  happy  and 
triumphant  man  when  he  reads  that  letter.  He  will  feel,  of 

343 


FAITH  BRANDON 

course,  for  your  suffering  and  trouble,  but  above  all  will  be 
the  triumph  of  your  constancy  and  love." 

"Oh,  Youri  Andrevich,  how  good  you  are!  How  good 
you  are!"  she  stammered,  turning  her  head  aside  for  a 
moment  and  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand.  But  gathering 
herself  together  quickly,  she  smiled  brightly,  almost  gayly 
at  Him  and  held  out  toward  him  a  tiny  parcel. 

"  I  did  not  know  what  you  had  done  for  me  when  I  chose 
this  for  you,"  she  explained.  "It  was  wholly  from  disin- 
terested affection  and  friendship;  but  now  it  comes  in  very 
nicely  as  a  reward  of  virtue." 

He  took  the  box  from  her  and  opened  it.  Within  lay  a 
long  gold  chain,  light  and  smooth,  yet  strongly  made,  to 
be  worn  about  the  neck.  Faith  had  been  at  a  good  deal  of 
pains  to  find  what  she  thought  suitable,  and  he  would  never 
know  what  a  strain  on  her  slender  purse  it  had  been  to  meet 
the  cost.  He  lifted  the  chain  from  its  box  and  looked  up 
at  her,  and  now  it  was  his  turn  to  stammer  and  be  over- 
come. 

"For  me?"  he  asked.  "You  give  this  to  me,  Fides? 
You!" 

For  answer  she  unfastened  from  about  his  neck  the  nar- 
row ribbon  which  the  nurse  had  attached  to  his  cross,  in 
the  place  of  the  coarse  string  he  had  been  wearing  when 
brought  to  the  hospital.  She  slipped  the  chain  through  the 
ring  of  the  exquisitely  enameled,  flat  crucifix,  then,  rever- 
ently kissing  the  cross,  she  signed  him  with  it,  and  clasped 
the  chain  about  his  throat. 

He  seized  her  hands  and  pressed  them  gratefully  to  his 
lips.  Then  he  let  them  go  and  grasped  the  chain. 

"Oh,  Fides,  a  gift  from  you,  that  I  may  hold  to,  night 
and  day,  as  to  my  hope  of  heaven !  Ah,  how  I  used  to  long 
for  some  little,  least  thing  to  cherish  that  had  once  been 
yours!  So  little  would  have  satisfied  me,  and  now  you  give 
me  this,  binding  my  love  to  my  religion  in  sacred  union  to 

344 


TRUE  LOVE 

my  grave.  No  torment  of  starvation  or  death  shall  ever 
wrest  it  from  me." 

She  was  determined  to  keep  him  away  from  the  dangerous 
topic  of  sentiment,  and  forced  herself  to  laugh  and  say 
cheerfully,  "You  will  be  in  no  danger  of  starving  so  long  as 
Brandon  Ludlow  looks  after  you.  There  will  be  far  more 
danger  of  dying  of  plethora,  while  in  his  hands.  But  listen, 
Youri!  I  am  going  to  give  you  an  incentive  for  getting  well 
rapidly.  You  must  hurry  and  get  strong  enough  to  drive 
round  and  see  me  at  my  aunts'  home,  for  I  am  not  coming 
to  the  hospital  any  more." 

"Not  coming  any  more! "  he  exclaimed.  He  looked  down 
very  gravely.  "  What  have  I  done,  Fides,  that  you  should 
punish  Tne  so  severely?  Should  I  not  have  asked  if  you 
were  free?  Was  that  one  question  so  very  indiscreet?  " 

"Oh,  Youri,  forgive  me!  Indeed,  you  must  not  look 
upon  it  as  a  punishment.  You  have  been  so  loyal,  so  kind. 
It  is  not  that,  indeed,  but  I  —  do  you  not  see?  I  want  to  be 
true  in  the  spirit  as  well  as  in  the  letter  —  you  are  nearly 
well  now  —  there  is  nothing  more  for  me  to  do  —  HI  con- 
tinue coming  it  will  only  be  harder  in  the  end.  Oh,  Youri, 
please  try  to  see  it  as  I  see  it !" 

"I  do!"  he  said,  with  a  groan.  "You  are  right!  Your 
work  of  mercy  is  done,  you  should  not  come  any  more."  He 
turned  his  head  aside,  and  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  light 
of  the  whole  world  went  out.  He  had  so  counted  on  seeing 
her  every  day;  he  had  so  hung  upon  every  look  of  her  angelic 
face,  every  tone  of  her  sweet  voice.  What  had  he  to  live 
for  now?  Her  presence  removed,  his  health  shattered,  his 
life  useless, —  all  was  dark  and  hopeless.  He  could  not 
even  die! 

Faith  understood,  but  she  made  an  effort  to  be  cheer- 
ful, to  keep  herself  from  dangerous  pity  and  to  divert  his 
mind,  as  one  would  that  of  a  child.  She  hardly  knew  what 
she  said,  but  talk  she  must,  to  relieve  the  situation. 

345 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"You  are  going  to  have  a  spin  in  Brandy's  automobile 
the  first  favorable  day.  After  you  have  had  two  or  three 
drives  and  the  fresh  air  has  made  you  strong  again,  you  will 
come  to  my  aunts'  house  as  their  guest  for  a  while.  You 
will  find  them  congenial  and  interesting.  They  talk  the 
languages  and  are  used  to  European  court  life." 

Dovsprung  roused  himself.  He  must  pull  himself  to- 
gether, he  must  remember  the  conventionalities  and  not 
expect  another  man's  betrothed  to  visit  him  every  day  and 
listen  to  his  lovelorn  sighings!  Fides  was,  as  always,  her 
exquisite,  conscientious,  adorable  self;  she  was  doing  as  he 
would  wish  his  own  betrothed  to  do,  she  was  following  the 
unerring  instincts  of  her  own  noble,  fine  and  loyal 
nature.  Should  he  not  have  known  that  it  must  end 
this  way? 

"I  remember  hearing  you  speak  of  your  aunts,"  he  said, 
politely.  "I  shall  avail  myself  very  gratefully  of  the  oppor- 
tunity of  meeting  them  in  the  home  you  are  so  much  at- 
tached to." 

At  this  moment  one  of  the  nurses  entered  to  take  her 
patient's  pulse  and  temperature. 

"He  missed  you  yesterday,"  she  said  pleasantly  to  Faith. 
"It  was  the  woist  night  he  has  had  since  the  first  week. 
We  cannot  allow  you  to  neglect  your  patient  again."  She 
was  a  German  and  she  spoke  in  that  language. 

Dovsprung  looked  up  quickly.  "I  am  going  to  move 
back  into  the  ward  to-morrow,"  he  said  to  the  nurse,  "and 
it  will  not  be  so  agreeable  for  Miss  Brandon  to  visit  me 
there.  She  will  not  come  any  more  for  a  while,  and  in  a 
few  days  I  shall  hope  to  be  well  enough  to  return  some  of 
her  kind  visits." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know  you  were  going  to  move.  I  hadn't 
been  given  any  instructions  yet,"  apologized  the  nurse. 
"My!  We  shall  miss  having  Miss  Brandon's  visits.  How 
are  you  ever  going  to  get  well  without  her?  " 

346 


TRUE  LOVE 

When  the  kindly  German  had  left  the  room,  Dovsprung 
turned  to  Faith  in  explanation. 

"I  am  afraid  your  cousin  will  be  offended  to  have  me  give 
up  the  room,  when  he  has  done  so  much  to  make  it  com- 
fortable for  me;  but  you,  Fides,  will  understand  that  I 
must  now  have  something  to  help  me  forget,  something  to 
take  me  out  of  myself.  I  must  learn  to  interest  myself  in 
the  sorrows  and  sufferings  of  others,  and  remember  that 
mine  is  not  the  only  broken  heart,  not  the  only  disappointed, 
hopeless,  useless  life  in  the  world.  I  should  grow  morbid 
here,  this  simple  little  room  is  so  associated  with  you,  it 
has  been  so  illuminated  by  your  presence,  so  glorified  for 
me  by  your  sweet  spirit,  it  has  been  so  blest!  Oh,  Fides, 
I  have  done  such  foolish  things  here!  Since  I  have  been 
well  enough,  these  last  few  days  and  nights,  to  step  about  a 
little  alone,  I  have  been  down  on  my  knees  and  kissed  the 
floor  that  your  feet  have  trod,  the  things  that  your  hands 
have  touched " 

"Oh,  don't,  don't,  Youri ! "  cried  Faith,  tremulously,  " In- 
deed you  are  right  to  leave  it!  It  is  high  time  to  get  over 
such  folly!  But  let  me  tell  you,  dear  friend,  how  this  room 
has  been  blest  to  me,  too!  If  ever  I  have  unconsciously  been 
of  help  to  your  soul,  as  you  tell  me  I  have  been,  then  you, 
too,  have  been  of  help  to  me,  here,  in  this  same  precious 
room." 

"I  —  I,  of  help  to  your  soul,  Fides?" 

"  Listen,  Youri !  My  father  and  uncle  wished  to  withdraw 
me  from  the  influence  of  the  Russian  Church  because  they 
believed  me  to  be  only  carried  away  by  its  wonderful  music 
and  impressive  ceremonies.  And  I,  too,  had  begun  to  fear 
that  much  of  what  I  had  thought  was  faith  might  be  only 
sentiment,  for  I  missed  so  inexpressibly  the  angelic,  super- 
humanly  beautiful  music,  the  mystic  grandeur  of  the 
ceremonies.  But  here,  in  this  room,  by  your  sick-bed,  I 
came  to  know  that  my  faith  is  independent  of  external 

347 


FAITH  BRANDON 

beauty  of  surrounding.  For  when  the  sacraments  were  ad- 
ministered to  you  in  a  rite  that  was  strange  to  me,  and 
in  such  quiet  and  simplicity,  it  was  yet  as  real,  as  holy  to 
me,  I  could  say  'Vyeruiu, —  I  believe!'  with  as  much  con- 
fidence as  at  the  most  solemn  ceremonies  in  Russia! 
And  I  realized,  as  uever  before,  how  truly  we  are  one 
Church!" 

He  looked  at  her  very  gravely  and  wistfully.  "One 
Church,  Fides?"  he  asked. 

"Why,  yes!  Youri,"  she  replied,  smiling  brightly  toward 
him.  "I  know  that  you  feel  differently  about  Unity,  that 
you  think  union  with  Rome  essential,  and  that  question 
troubled  me  for  a  while.  But  I  asked  Lyova  and  Father 
Spiridion  about  it,  and  they  explained  to  me  that  while  the 
churches  of  the  East  and  the  West  have  often  been 
outwardly  united  they  are  always  spiritually  one  Church  in 
doctrine,  in  the  sacramental  life,  in  the  Eucharistic  worship ; 
and  that  the  only  question  that  divides  them  is  one  of 
politics,  not  of  doctrine." 

"Of  politics?"  repeated  Dovsprung,  inquiringly. 

"Yes,  a  question  of  government,  the  question  of  the 
Papal  prerogatives.  They  made  it  clear  to  me  that  na- 
tional autonomy  does  not  mean  schism,  any  more  than 
difference  of  language  and  ceremony  means  difference  of 
belief.  You  Uniats  are  an  instance  of  different  language 
and  different  ceremonies  within  the  Catholic  Church 
itself.  Yet  you  felt,  did  you  not,  Youri,  when  you  re- 
ceived the  sacraments  by  the  Roman  instead  of  the  Slavonic 
rite,  that  they  were  absolutely  the  same? " 

"Yes,  absolutely!    But  Fides " 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked. 

He  hesitated.  She  was  so  happy  in  her  understanding 
of  Unity,  this  explanation  meant  so  much  to  her,  how  could 
he  disturb  her?  As  she  saw  things  now  she  was  at  one  with 
her  lover.  How  could  he  say  what  would  serve  to  separate 

348 


TRUE  LOVE 

her  from  her  betrothed?  If  he  had  a  shred  of  manly  honor 
left,  Dovsprung  felt  that  he  must  not  say  anything  that 
might  part  these  two. 

Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  was  there  not  such  a  thing  as  a 
heavenly  honor  which  required  a  man  to  confess  the  faith 
that  is  in  him?  Were  there  not  moments  when  silence 
would  be  taken  as  acquiescence,  when  it  would  be  betraying 
the  Lord  Christ  to  keep  still? 

"What  is  it,  Youri?"  she  asked  again,  encouragingly, 
for  she  saw  his  hesitation  and  struggle. 

"Forgive  me,  Fides,"  and  his  eyes  looked  appealingly 
out  at  her  from  the  shadows  of  his  thin,  pallid  face.  "I 
cannot  see  it  as  a  question  of  politics.  Our  Saviour  prayed 
His  Heavenly  Father  that  His  Church  might  be  one  with  a 
Unity  that  the  world  could  not  but  recognize.  The  his- 
toric development  of  the  Papacy,  therefore,  is  no  mere  po- 
litical scheme,  no  mere  accident  of  chance,  but  is  part  of 
the  Divine  plan.  It  was  instituted  by  Christ  Himself  to 
preserve  Unity.  There  are  no  words  in  all  of  Holy  Script- 
ure so  plain  and  so  striking  as  Christ's  promises  to  Peter. 
In  all  the  centuries  of  Christian  history  there  is  no  one,  living 
fact  that  stands  out  before  us  as  does  the  Papacy,  the  ful- 
filment of  these  promises.  Of  all  the  churches  founded  by 
apostles  none  are  living  in  their  ancient  sees,  full  of  strength 
and  vitality,  save  only  the  Church  of  Rome,  the  See  of 
Peter!  Tu  es  Petrus  et  super  hanc  Petram  aedificabo 
Ecclesiam  Meam/" 

He  sank  back  exhausted  and  trembling.  Faith  hastily 
administered  a  stimulant  and,  wiping  the  moisture  from  his 
brow,  rang  for  the  nurse. 

"Forgive  me!"  he  whispered.  "I  feel  like  a  brute,  it  has 
almost  killed  me  to  contradict  you,  Fides,  but  —  I  had  to 
speak!" 

"No,  no!  I  brought  it  on  myself!  You  could  not  do 
otherwise  than  speak.  Do  not  distress  yourself,  dear  Youri. 

349 


FAITH  BRANDON 

From  my  heart,  I  thank  God  for  you  that  you  have  the 
gift  of  faith!" 

"The  heavenly  Faith  is  all  that  is  given  me,"  he  whis- 
pered, half-sadly,  half-playfully. 

She  surrendered  him  to  the  nurse's  care  and,  with  a  silent 
pressure  of  the  hand,  left  him. 

But  a  sort  of  terror  had  come  over  her.  What  if  she  were 
to  see  Unity  even  as  Youri  Andrevich  saw  it?  What  would 
it  all  involve?  What  new  obstacles  would  it  raise?  Where 
would  it  all  end? 

She  had  been  so  happy  in  all  that  the  Orthodox  Church 
had  to  offer  her,  the  certainty  of  its  orders,  of  its  sacraments, 
of  its  doctrines  —  untouched  since  the  early  (Ecumenical 
Councils.  She  had  accepted  so  joyously,  with  such  fer- 
vent faith,  its  devotions  and  holy  practices,  sealed  by  ages 
of  apostolic  tradition;  its  magnificent  liturgy,  an  heritage 
from  the  earliest  centuries.  Yet  the  Uniats  had  all  this, 
all  that  she  treasured  and  gloried  in,  and  beyond  this  they 
were  united  with  the  See  of  that  Apostle  to  whom  such  won- 
derful promises  had  been  made!  Must  she  believe  that 
union  with  the  See  of  Peter  was  divinely  ordained, — 
that  with  all  they  had  of  truth  and  beauty  the  Eastern 
churches  were  yet  in  schism?  Was  her  own  hand  to 
raise  the  final  barrier  between  herself  and  her  lover? 

She  recalled  how  Lyova  had  once  said  to  her  earnestly: 
"The  Roman  allegiance  is  the  only  thing  that  would  be  an 
insuperable  obstacle  to  our  marriage!  You  could  remain 
a  Protestant  and  yet  accept  the  conditions  of  a  mixed 
marriage,  but  as  a  Roman  Catholic  you  could  not  accept 
the  legal  and  ecclesiastical  conditions  of  marriage  with  a 
member  of  the  Russian  State  Church.  Nor  could  I  leave 
my  church  without  incurring  exile  and  loss  of  citizen- 
ship." 

Faith  shivered.  "Lord,  help  Thou  mine  unbelief!"  she 
prayed. 

350 


TRUE  LOVE 

When  Brandon  returned  from  his  next  visit  to  the  hospital, 
he  rushed  up  to  Faith's  room  in  some  excitement. 

"I  declare,"  he  burst  out,  "I  don't  know  whether  to  be 
angry  or  to  cry!  What  do  you  think  that  crazy  fellow  has 
done?  He  has  gone  and  given  up  his  room  and  had  himself 
moved  back  into  the  ward  with  all  those  poor  working  men! 
And  there  he  is,  still  wearing  those  dreadful  hospital  shirts. 
He  said  he  hadn't  the  heart  to  put  on  the  fine  things  I  sent 
him  before  those  poor  fellows,  who  were  in  such  distress,  won- 
dering how  their  families  were  going  to  get  food  and  clothes 
during  their  illness." 

"I  know  how  it  makes  me  feel,"  said  Faith.  "It  makes 
me  want  to  cry!" 

"He  said,"  went  on  Brandon,  "that  he  had  moved  into 
the  ward  for  company.  I  asked  what  companionship  he 
could  have  with  such  a  rough  class,  and  he  said  we  Americans 
had  not  the  first  notion  of  democracy  and  brotherhood  as 
Russians  understand  it.  And  indeed  it  would  do  you  good 
to  see  the  pleasant  terms  he  is  on  with  them  all.  He  was 
passing  the  fruit  I  had  given  him  to  the  rough  laboring 
fellows  in  the  next  beds,  and  they  were  dividing  it  up  with 
their  neighbors,  and  he  was  talking  so  courteously  and 
genially  with  them  all  in  three  or  four  languages,  and 
knew  all  about  their  families  and  their  histories  already. 
I  didn't  have  to  ask  him  about  the  birds  and  the  cham- 
pagne, for  the  head-nurse  told  me  he  had  given  all  the 
stuff  to  her  for  some  of  the  poor  women  convalescents. 
A  pretty  way  to  treat  the  things  I  spent  my  pocket 
money  on!" 

Brandy  heaved  a  sigh.  "I  say,  Faith!  I  don't  know 
much  about  philanthropy,  but  I  think  it  would  be  rather  a 
good  idea  to  look  up  some  of  these  poor  chaps'  families, 
and  see  if  there  was  anything  one  could  do.  Don't  you 
think  so?" 

"It  is  part  of  religion,  as  the  apostle  defined  it,"  suggested 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Faith,  "'to  visit  the  widows  and  the  fatherless  in  their  afflic- 
tion, and  to  keep  one's  self  unspotted  from  the  world.'  " 

"I  suspect  that  the  first  part  of  the  job  is  easier  than  the 
last  half,"  commented  Brandy. 

He  visited  his  patient  daily,  with  ever-increasing  interest, 
and  made  frequent  reports  to  Faith  of  his  improvement. 

"  He  doesn't  seem  as  much  upset  about  this  war  as  you 
would  think,"  he  told  her.  "He  says  that  they  knew  it 
would  take  a  year  to  get  a  well-equipped  army  out  there, 
and  that  the  Japanese  have  really  made  less  headway  than 
was  expected.  In  fifteen  months  they  have  advanced 
only  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  from  the  sea  and 
are  still  over  four  hundred  miles  from  the  Russian  frontier, 
and  every  day  it  is  getting  harder  for  them  to  advance, 
as  the  Russians  are  getting  nearer  a  numerical  equality. 
He  says  what  he  fears  most  is  a  premature  peace.  Russia 
is  only  beginning  to  show  her  strength,  her  best  regiments 
are  still  in  Europe,  and  she  should  be  allowed  to  fight  it  out 
to  the  finish,  as  the  English  did  in  South  Africa." 

Here  Brandon  broke  off  and  began  to.  pace  the  room  un- 
easily. "But  we  have  talked  on  a  lot  of  other  subjects, 
too,  bully  heart  to  heart  talks  that  have  done  me  a  lot  of 
good.  We  never  mention  your  name,  though.  You  are  much 
too  sacred  to  be  discussed  with  poor  me.  Faith!  He  has 
such  beautiful  ideals.  I  can't  explain  it  to  you  exactly, 
but  he  would  make  a  splendid  husband.  His  wife  would 
never  have  to  suffer  from  anxiety  or  jealousy.  He  would 
be  a  very  faithful,  tender  husband." 

"I  think  he  would,"  she  agreed.  "Yes,  as  I  know  him 
now,  I  am  sure  he  would." 

"That  is  a  great  thing  to  be  sure  of,  Faith.  You  cannot 
know  as  much  of  the  world  as  I  do,"  continued  Brandy, 
patronizingly,  "so  you  may  not  appreciate  him;  but  with 
his  fidelity,  his  great  personal  charm,  and  his  romantic 
devotion  to  you  I  don't  see  how  you  can  resist  him." 

352 


TRUE  LOVE 

"But  I  am  engaged  to  another  man,"  said  Faith,  in  a 
low  voice. 

"Pshaw!  That  is  all  off.  You  are  as  free  as  I  am," 
declared  her  cousin.  "Solntsoff  was  a  ripping  fine  fellow 
all  right,  but  this  man  would  be  a  better  husband  for  you. 
All  your  gifts  would  go  to  waste  with  Solntsoff,  who  is 
absorbed  in  his  own  career  and  only  cares  for  your  mind 
because  it  enables  you  to  sympathize  with  him  and  be  of 
use  to  him.  You  will  slave  for  him  and  live  for  his  work, 
and  never  develop  your  own  talents  or  dream  of  having  a 
career  of  your  own.  But  Dovsprung  worships  the  ground 
you  tread  on.  He  would  put  you  first  in  everything,  and 
devote  his  life  to  you  and  encourage  your  talents.  You 
have  literary  gifts.  You  ought  to  have  a  career  of  your 
own,  and  he  would  be  the  man  to  put  you  up  to  it. 
Mark  my  words!  If  you  marry  the  literary  fellow  you 
will  never  be  anything  but  his  housekeeper  and  his 
stenographer,  while  you  would  be  the  other  man's  Vittoria 
Colonna!" 

"I  am  not  so  sure  as  you  are  that  I  am  fitted  for  any 
other  career  than  housekeeper  and  stenographer,"  said 
Faith,  a  little  sadly. 

Brandon  fancied  that  she  looked  dejected,  and  gathered 
courage  to  say  what  was  on  his  mind. 

"Are  you  very,  very  sure  of  your  own  heart,  Faithie, 
or  are  you  clinging  to  Solntsoff  only  from  sense  of  duty 
and  loyalty?  It  would  be  horrible  to  make  such  a  mistake. 
It  would  end  in  your  all  three  being  unhappy,  while  if  you 
choose  the  one  you  love  best,  then  at  least  two  of  you  three 
will  be  happy.  The  other  man  of  course  would  feel  badly, 
but  you  couldn't  make  him  happy  by  sacrificing  yourself 
and  marrying  him  from  pity." 

"I  know.  Lyova  told  me  the  same  thing  long  ago," 
said  Faith,  but  her  voice  was  tremulous  and  she  turned  her 
face  away. 

353 


FAITH  BRANDON 

She  was  silent  so  long  that  Brandon  fancied  she  must 
be  crying.  He  stole  up  to  her  and  put  his  arm  gently  about 
her. 

"Faithie,  won't  you  tell  me?  Won't  you  let  me  help 
you?  You  can  talk  to  me,  you  know,  without  breaking  your 
word,  as  I  am  in  the  secret." 

"Oh,  Brandy,"  she  sighed,  "there's  nobody  but  you  that 
I  can  speak  to  about  it.  Oh,  I  want  him  so!  I  want  him 
so !  It  seems  as  if  my  heart  would  break ! " 

"You  shall  have  him!"  declared  Brandy.  "What's  to 
prevent?  Isn't  he  at  your  feet,  eating  his  heart  out  for 
you?  I'll  go  and  tell  him,  and  raise  him  to  the  seventh 
heaven." 

Faith  lifted  her  head  and  stared  at  her  cousin.  "I  always 
say  things  wrong,"  she  exclaimed.  "It  seems  as  if  I  hadn't 
any  sense.  Brandy,  you  don't  understand!  There's  noth- 
ing you  can  do.  It  is  the  other  one  I  want,  my  big,  best 
friend,  my  Prince  Fair-Sun,"  and  she  laid  her  head  on  her 
cousin's  shoulder  and  began  to  cry. 

Brandy  looked  disappointed.  "I  suppose  that  settles 
it,"  he  said,  unwillingly,  and  with  such  a  long-drawn  sigh 
of  resignation  that  Faith  had  to  wipe  away  her  tears  and 
smile  tenderly  at  him. 

"Listen,  Brandy,"  she  explained.  "I  have  been  thinking 
it  out  from  every  point  of  view.  It  was  my  duty  toward 
both  men  to  do  so,  and  I  know  very  well  where  I  stand.  I 
know  how  badly  you  feel  for  Count  von  Dovsprung;  I,  too, 
am  broken-hearted  about  him.  I  see  the  whole  beauty  of  his 
feeling  for  me  and  all  that  I  signify  to  him.  There  was  a 
moment,  just  a  moment,  when  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  be  more 
to  him  than  to  the  other  man,  when  it  seemed  as  if  I  ought 
to  forget  Lyova  and  learn  to  love  Youri,  because  he  needed 
me  more.  But  I  know  better  now.  It  would  have  been  a 
terrible  mistake.  Brandy,  Knyaz  Solntsoff  loves  me,  and 
Graf  von  Dovsprung  does  not  love  me." 

354 


TRUE  LOVE 

"Faith,  what  do  you  mean?  That  man  adores  you  with 
the  deepest,  most  beautiful  affection  I  ever  dreamed  of!" 

Faith  shook  her  head.  "It  is  not  I  at  all  whom  he  adores. 
He  loves  an  exquisite  ideal,  an  angelic  illusion,  a  perfect 
being  who  doesn't  exist,  a  creation  of  his  own  spirit  which  he 
calls  Fid&s!  It  is  doing  him  infinite  good  to  love  this  Fides 
of  his;  it  is  changing  his  life  and  making  a  magnificent  man 
of  him.  But  what  has  his  Fides  in  common  with  me,  with 
Faith  Brandon?  Nothing  but  a  faint  suggestion!  It  would 
be  the  worst  thing  in  the  world  for  him  to  win  me,  it  would 
spoil  his  whole  illusion,  and  I  should  be  wretched  in  knowing 
that  the  real  Fides  had  brought  him  down  from  the  height 
of  his  ideal  to  the  lower  level  of  her  imperfect  reality." 

"It  wouldn't  spoil  his  illusion,"  growled  Brandy  in  dis- 
sent. "He  is  so  far  gone  that  he  would  never  see  your 
faults,  if  you  had  any." 

"Now,  Lyeff  Petrovich,"  continued  Faith,  heedless  of 
the  interruption,  "also  loves  me  in  a  wonderful  way  that 
makes  me  very  humble,  but  it  is  a  sensible,  matter-of-fact 
way  that  is  very  consoling  to  me.  For  he  loves  my  real 
celf ,  he  knows  and  always  has  known  my  faults  and  short- 
comings. He  will  suffer  no  disillusion,  because  he  has  no 
stupid  illusions.  He  has  high  ideals  for  me,  but  he  does 
not  make  me  his  ideal.  I  am  not  an  impossible  angel,  but 
just  his  everyday,  loving  Little  Comrade.  Even  thus,  he 
thinks  far  better  of  me  than  I  deserve,  but  only  enough  to 
inspire  me  to  try  to  deserve  it.  And,  oh,  Brandy,  I  can 
turn  to  him  in  every  event  of  life  as  my  best  friend!  I 
have  thought  of  the  future,  of  all  that  might  happen,  of 
poverty,  exile,  illness,  of  all  the  practical  things  of  everyday 
life.  He  will  have  his  cross  days,  I  suppose,  for  he  is  human 
and  has  a  temper  of  his  own;  and  I  shall  have  my  unreason- 
able ones,  doubtless,  and  things  will  go  wrong  with  us, 
just  as  they  do  in  other  households.  But  I  can  face  it  all 
without  any  misgivings,  hand  in  hand  with  Lyova.  Even 

355 


FAITH  BRANDON 

if  he  gets  old,  and  bald,  and  stout,  and  infirm,  as  he  is  very 
likely  to  do,  there  is  always  his  splendid  mentality.  And 
—  even  —  if  he  should  lose  that,  dreadful  as  it  would  be, 
I  would  rather  be  his  broken-hearted,  loving  nurse  and 
guardian  than  any  other  man's  queen." 

There  was  a  long  pause.     "That  sounds  like  what  they 
call  'true  love,' "  observed  Brandon,  at  last. 


356 


CHAPTER  XXV 

AFTER  MANY  YEARS 

"He  who  hath  bent  him  o'er  the  Dead 
Ere  the  last  look  of  life  is  fled  — 
The  first  dark  day  of  nothingness, 
The  last  of  danger  and  distress  — 
Before  Decay's  effacing  fingers 
Have  swept  the  lines  where  Beauty  lingers, 
And  marked  the  mild,  angelic  air, 
The  rapture  of  repose  that's  there" 

—  Byron 

DOVSPRUNG  had  taken  two  or  three  short  rides  in  Bran- 
don's automobile,  and  now  felt  strong  enough  to  make  an 
appointment  to  call  on  the  Ludlow  ladies.  Faith  rejoiced 
that  he  should  meet  her  aunts,  and  that  the  only  American 
home  of  which  he  would  have  a  glimpse  was  one  which, 
though  modest  in  size,  spoke  so  much  of  old  world  culture. 
She  regretted  that  the  ladies  should  not  have  a  vision  of 
Youri  Andrevich  in  all  the  splendor  of  his  picturesque  uni- 
form, to  remind  them  of  the  brilliant  days  of  their  youth  at 
foreign  courts;  but  he  was  a  handsome,  gallant-looking  man 
in  any  guise,  even  in  the  hospital  garb  that  Brandon  so 
loathed. 

But  Brandon's  tailor  had  done  well  by  his  foreign  cus- 
tomer; and  Dovsprung,  though  still  somewhat  pale  and 
hollow-eyed,  made  a  very  distinguished  figure  as  he  entered 
the  narrow  drawing-room  of  the  Mt.  Vernon  Street  house. 
The  two  ladies  stood  up  to  receive  him,  and  with  a  stately 
courtesy  extended  their  hands  cordially  to  him.  He  bowed 
low  before  them  and  kissed  their  hands  with  great  respect, 
and  then  turned  to  salute  Faith.  But  even  as  he  turned  Miss 
Adele,  who  had  grown  very  pale,  without  a  word  of  excuse 
or  warning  left  the  room,  in  evident  great  agitation.  Miss 

357 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Louisa  started  to  follow  her;  but  the  older  lady  waved  her 
away  and  mounted  the  stairs  alone  to  her  room. 

Miss  Louisa  returned  at  once  to  their  guest  and,  seating 
herself,  motioned  him  to  sit  by  her,  while  Faith  fetched  them 
cake  and  wine.  For  a  time  she  conversed  with  him  in  French, 
asking  about  his  health  and  his  return  to  Europe,  then  with- 
out apparent  connection  inquired  if  he  had  relatives  in  Buda- 
pest. He  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

"You  must  excuse  my  seeming  curiosity,"  said  Miss  Louisa, 
who  in  her  turn  looked  somewhat  agitated,  "but  you  bear  an 
altogether  extraordinary  resemblance  to  a  friend  of  our  youth 
whose  estates  were  in  Hungary." 

"My  mother  was  of  the  Magyar  nobility,"  replied  Dov- 
sprung.  "She  died  when  I  was  only  ten  years  old,  but  I 
have  often  visited  her  family  in  Budapest.  She  was  a 
Princess  Dhaun-ap-Erdod." 

Miss  Louisa's  agitation  increased  perceptibly.  "My 
sister  Adele  was  betrothed  in  her  youth  to  Prince  George 
Erdody,"  she  almost  whispered. 

"My  uncle!"  exclaimed  Dovsprung,  "for  whom  I  was 
named!" 

"How  strange!"  murmured  Faith.  "I  have  never  be- 
fore heard  her  lover's  name." 

"I  always  knew,"  said  Dovsprung,  gently, "that  my  uncle, 
who  married  an  altgravine  of  Salm,  had  had  a  previous 
attachment,  and  that  on  his  sudden  death  in  a  hunting  acci- 
dent, a  few  months  after  his  marriage,  he  was  found  to  be 
wearing  the  miniature  of  his  early  love.  His  wife  was  noble 
enough  to  respect  the  fidelity  of  his  affection,  and  the  minia- 
ture was  buried  with  him." 

The  tears  filled  Miss  Louisa's  fine  eyes.  "  My  poor  sister 
never  knew  that,"  she  said.  "She  heard  of  his  death,  and 
mourned  him  truly,  for  the  match  was  broken  off  through  no 
fault  on  either  side.  He  was  the  eldest  son,  it  was  impera- 
tive that  he  should  marry,  and  she  had  no  word  of  blame  for 

358 


AFTER  MANY  YEARS 

him  when  he  did  so.  She  only  prayed  for  his  peace  of  mind 
and  domestic  happiness.  By  a  strange  coincidence  to-day 
is  the  anniversary  of  his  death.  She  had  been  thinking  of 
him  and  was  the  more  prepared  to  be  disturbed  by  this 
truly  remarkable  resemblance.  It  was  as  if  he  himself  had 
walked  into  the  room.  I  also  was  startled,  for  you  seemed 
as  one  risen  from  the  grave." 

Dovsprung's  eyes  were  moist  with  sympathy.  "Would 
your  sister  care  to  see  me,"  he  asked,  "when  she  recovers 
from  her  first  agitation?  Would  the  assurance  of  his  fidelity 
to  her  memory  bring  her  consolation,  or  would  my  further 
presence  only  disturb  her?  I  beg  you  to  dismiss  me,  if  I 
only  revive  her  sorrow  in  vain." 

"I  will  go  to  my  sister,  if  you  will  excuse  me.  She  does 
not  yet  know  of  the  connection.  She  thinks  the  likeness 
accidental.  If  she  will  receive  you,  I  will  summon  you," 
and  Miss  Louisa  withdrew  with  a  certain  stately  sol- 
emnity. 

"How  fate  brings  its  revenges,"  exclaimed  Dovsprung 
bitterly,  turning  to  Faith.  "My  uncle  broke  her  heart, 
and  all  her  youth  and  womanhood  have  been  wasted  in 
mourning  him.  Now  her  niece  avenges  her  by  breaking 
his  nephew's  heart,  and  I  in  turn  must  mourn  away  all  the 
strength  of  my  manhood  for  her  sake."  He  clinched  his 
hands  and  his  face  was  stern  and  white.  "Why  do  I  mourn 
like  a  weak  woman?  "  he  muttered  between  his  teeth.  "  Why 
do  I  sit  still  in  meek  resignation  like  that  delicate  invalid 
upstairs  and  let  my  happiness  be  taken  from  me?  Why  do 
I  not  act?  Why  do  I  not  go  ahead  and  win  you  like  a  man, 
in  spite  of  all?" 

Faith  was  startled  by  his  vehemence  and  the  scarcely 
repressed  passion  of  his  manner.  "I  hoped  —  I  thought 
—  you  were  getting  over  it,"  she  faltered. 

He  looked  sharply  at  her.  "Do  you  not  suppose  I  would 
get  over  it,  if  I  could?"  he  said  bitterly.  "I  am  a  proud 

359 


FAITH  BRANDON 

man;  and  if  pride  could  do  it,  I  should  have  been  healed 
long  ago.  But  do  not  deceive  yourself.  Do  not  think  me 
tamed  down  forever  into  a  calm  Platonic  friend,  a  kindly, 
matter-of-fact  elder  brother!  No!  Your  place  in  my  life, 
in  my  heart,  is  something  that  no  other  woman  can  ever 
fill.  I  must  go  on  loving  you,  and  you  must  pity  and  for- 
give, if  hope  dies  hard  within  me.  On  the  day  that  I  learn 
you  are  irrevocably  lost  to  me  I  shall  be  a  desperate  man. 
I  shall  fling  my  poor,  broken  heart  to  the  first  who  wants 
it,  in  heaven  or  in  hell!" 

Faith  moved  impulsively  toward  him  with  outstretched 
hands.  "Youri!"  she  cried,  "Heaven  wants  your  heart! 
If  you  cannot  give  it  to  a  holy  love  of  earth,  then  fling  it  to 
the  Heaven  that  is  leading  you,  that  loves  you  more  than 
I  or  any  other  poor,  imperfect  human  heart  could  ever  love 
you!  Youri,  look  up!  have  faith!  I  will  pray  for  you  night 
and  day,  all  my  life!  Your  soul  is  dearer  to  me  than  my 
own  earthly  happiness.  If  you  should  fall  now,  it  seems  to 
me  I  could  never  smile  again!"  She  sank  on  her  knees  and 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  "Oh,  may  God  bless  you 
with  consolations  far  above  those  of  earth  and  make  you 
happier,  far  happier  than  I,  with  all  my  faults,  could  ever 
have  made  you!"  she  sobbed. 

"Fides!  Fides!"  cried  Dovsprung  in  distress,  inwardly 
cursing  himself  for  a  selfish  brute  to  have  so  worked  on  her 
sympathies.  O  God!  if  only  he  could  take  her  in  his  arms 
and  comfort  her!  "I  am  not  worth  one  of  your  precious 
tears,  Backfischly!  But  you  shall  not  shed  any  more  for 
me.  Forgive  me  the  unworthy  threat  that  slipped  from 
me  in  a  moment  of  anguish!  Should  I  fall  when  I  have 
the  promise  of  your  prayers  to  follow  me  night  and  day, 
wherever  I  may  go?  No,  no!  I  give  you  my  word, 
Fides,  your  chain  shall  bind  my  soul  to  holy  ideals  till  the 
hour  that  I  must  surrender  it  into  the  merciful  hands  of  God 
for  all  eternity!' 

360 


AFTER  MANY  YEARS 

He  raised  her  to  her  feet,  and  she  smiled  at  him  with 
eyes  radiant  through  her  tears. 

"  You  make  me  very  happy ! "  she  cried  joyfully.  "I  want 
always  to  have  the  vision  of  you  as  St.  George  the  Victo- 
rious, slaying  the  dragon  of  sin,  triumphant  over  self  and 
the  world!  Ah,  St.  George!  dear  St.  George!  the  happiest 
day  of  my  life  will  be  when  I  know  that  I  am  nothing 
more  than  a  holy  memory  to  you,  that  your  noble,  beauti- 
ful love  for  me,  for  Faith,  has  served  God's  purpose  as  a 
mere  stepping-stone  to  lead  you  higher  on  the  mountains 
of  a  Heavenly  Faith,  where  earthly  love  shall  be  for- 
gotten!" 

He  could  not  speak.  The  words  choked  in  his  throat. 
He  gave  her  one  beautiful  look  from  his  brilliant,  expres- 
sive eyes,  then  turned  away  and  walked  toward  the  window. 

Faith  understood  that  this  was  a  moment  when  he  should 
be  alone  with  his  emotions.  She  stole  out  of  the  room  and 
went  upstairs  to  inquire  for  Aunt  Adele. 

She  found  Miss  Louisa  in  great  alarm.  Her  sister  sat 
quietly  in  her  high  armchair,  with  folded  hands  and  unseeing 
eyes,  her  mind  wandering  confusedly  in  the  past.  It  was 
impossible  to  bring  her  to  any  comprehension  of  the  present. 
She  was  evidently  in  a  serious  condition. 

Dovsprung,  distressed  at  the  trouble  he  had  unconsciously 
brought,  was  thankful  to  be  of  service  in  taking  the  auto- 
mobile to  fetch  first  the  physician,  and  then  Brandon  Ludlow. 
He  returned  to  the  hospital,  weary  in  mind  and  body,  after 
arranging  with  Brandon  to  be  kept  informed  of  the  in- 
valid's condition,  and  to  be  sent  for  if  there  was  anything 
he  could  do. 

"To  have  received  so  much  from  you  all,  and  now  to  bring 
this  grief  upon  you  is  very  distressing  to  me,"  he  said,  re- 
gretfully. "If  it  would  quiet  her  mind  or  bring  her  any 
comfort  to  see  me  again,  call  me  at  any  hour." 

Brandon,  who  loved  his  aunt  dearly,  stayed  all  night  at 

361 


FAITH  BRANDON 

the  Mt.  Vernon  Street  house,  and  was  in  and  out  of  the 
sick  room,  trying  to  be  of  use  to  Miss  Louisa  and  to  Faith, 
who  were  watching  with  the  invalid. 

Miss  Adele  was  alarmingly  ill.  She  did  not  appear  to  be 
suffering,  but  she  was  weak  and  helpless,  her  speech  faint 
and  confused,  and  her  mind  wandering.  She  was  living 
once  more  in  the  days  of  her  youth  and  romance.  Again 
and  again  she  called  for  "  George,"  and  did  not  seem  to  under- 
stand why  there  was  no  reply. 

With  the  first  light  of  dawn,  Brandon  telephoned  to  Dov- 
sprung.  "We  think  it  may  quiet  her  if  you  come,"  he  ex- 
plained. "Of  course  she  has  confused  you  with  him,  and 
she  calls  him  and  is  restless  and  unhappy  because  he  does 
not  come  to  her." 

So  Dovsprung  returned  to  the  little  house,  and  did  not 
leave  it  again  in  the  three  days  that  Miss  Adele  yet  lived. 
The  guest  room  on  the  third  floor  was  given  up  to  him  and 
Brandon,  and  they  were  constantly  on  hand,  night  and  day, 
when  there  was  anything  they  might  do  for  the  sick  woman 
or  for  the  devoted  sister  and  niece  who  were  nursing  her. 
Every  little  while  the  invalid  would  ask  for  "George"; 
and  Dovsprung  would  go  to  her  bedside  and  sit  patiently 
by  her  for  a  half-hour  at  a  time  many  times  during  the 
day  and  night.  At  the  sound  of  his  voice,  at  the  sight 
of  his  face,  at  the  touch  of  his  hand  on  hers,  a  look  of  great 
content  crept  into  the  troubled,  puzzled  eyes,  the  rest- 
lessness passed  away,  and  the  features  relaxed  into  a 
peaceful  smile. 

Miss  Louisa  and  Faith  kept  the  sick  woman  looking  very 
dainty  and  attractive,  softening  the  effects  of  illness  and 
age  by  the  delicate  fichus  and  laces  drawn  about  the  throat 
and  arms  and  falling  about  the  gray  hair,  tenderly  veiling 
its  thinness.  She  did  not  realize  her  condition.  She  scarcely 
recognized  her  nurses,  but  was  ever  grateful  and  courteous. 

"I  should  like  to  hear  you  sing,"  she  murmured  at  last, 

362 


AFTER  MANY  YEARS 

laying  her  feeble,  white  hand  over  that  of  Dovsprung.  It 
was  difficult  to  make  out  the  words,  so  faint  and  uncertain 
was  her  speech. 

Miss  Louisa  beckoned  him  aside.  "If  you  could  only  sing 
to  her,"  she  sighed.  "Prince  Erdody  was  so  musical,  and 
she  used  to  play  his  accompaniments  on  the  harp.' 

"But  Graf  von  Dovsprung  sings  exquisitely,"  said  Faith. 
"If  he  will  sing,  I  will  try  to  accompany  him." 

"There  are  several  volumes  of  his  music  downstairs  in  the 
Italian  cabinet,"  said  Miss  Louisa.  Faith  led  the  way  to 
the  drawing-room,  and  Dovsprung  helped  her  to  bring  out 
the  tastefully  bound  volumes  of  old  French  and  Italian  songs. 
There  were  duets  and  solos.  The  volumes  were  stamped 
with  a  princely  coronet,  and  within  was  inscribed  in  French 
in  a  fine  masculine  handwriting,  "To  Mademoiselle  Ludlow, 
with  the  respectful  homage  and  devotion  of  Georges,  Prince 
Dhaun-ap-Erdod." 

"I  never  before  knew  what  the  Italian  cabinet  contained," 
said  Faith.  "There  was  always  a  mystery  about  it.  So  we 
may  live  for  years  with  our  nearest  and  dearest,  and  never 
suspect  the  secret  sorrows  of  their  hearts." 

"Here  is  an  old,  old  song  of  Gluck's,  'Dolce  mio  ardor' 
and  another  exquisite  old  song  in  French  by  Padre  Martini, 
'Plaisirs  d'amour.'  But  they  require  such  control  of  voice 
and  breath  that  I  fear  I  shall  not  be  able  to  sing  them  after 
my  illness.  Ah,  here  are  some  lovely  German  songs  by 
Franz  and  Abt,  and  this  from  Lortzing's  opera,  so  appro- 
priate, 

"  'Behiit  Dich  Gott!    Es  war  zu  schon  gewesen! 
Behut  Dich  Gott!    Es  hat  nicht  sollen  sein! ' ' 

and  Dovsprung  sighed  heavily.  "  God  keep  thee! "  he 
murmured  under  his  breath.  "  It  would  have  been  too 
blessed!" 

Faith  tuned  the  old  harp  and  softly  picked  out  the  chords. 

363 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Dovsprung  hummed  through  the  air.  "It  will  go,  I  think," 
he  said.  "  I  shall  have  to  take  breath  a  little  more  frequently, 
but  I  can  do  it  here,  and  here  without  spoiling  that  long, 
sweeping  phrase." 

He  had  never,  when  singing  in  the  stateliest  drawing- 
rooms  of  St.  Petersburg,  or  in  the  Imperial  palace  itself, 
taken  such  pains  with  his  performance  as  on  this  day  when, 
hoarse  and  scant  of  breath  from  recent  illness,  he  was  to 
try  his  voice  to  please  the  wandering  fancy  of  a  delirious, 
dying  old  woman  in  the  narrow  rooms  of  this  modest  house 
in  a  far  away  democracy. 

Brandon  Ludlow  carried  the  harp  up  the  stairway  and 
placed  it  at  the  open  door  of  the  large,  rear  room  adjoining 
that  of  the  invalid,  in  full  sight  of  the  bed.  Dovsprung 
stood  a  little  at  one  side,  just  in  the  shadow  of  the  doorway, 
and  as  the  first  notes  of  the  accompaniment  vibrated  on  the 
air  he  began  to  sing,  softly,  a  little  hoarsely  at  the  very  first; 
but,  as  the  song  went  on,  the  voice  cleared  and  came  forth 
in  all  its  old  mellowness  and  velvet  smoothness,  in  exquisite, 
artistic  phrasing  and  tender  simplicity  of  style.  The  in- 
valid's eyes  closed,  but  a  look  of  deepest  peace  and  content 
lay  on  the  now  placid  countenance.  Miss  Louisa,  by  the 
bedside,  was  vainly  trying  to  stem  the  tears  that  gushed 
from  her  eyes  at  the  sound  of  the  long  unheard  but  well- 
remembered  strains.  Brandon  stood  by  the  window  and 
gazed  into  the  street,  winking  hard  and  struggling  with  a 
lump  in  his  throat. 

Faith  felt  like  one  in  a  dream.  It  was  amazing  to  her, 
it  was  unbelievable,  that  here,  in  her  childhood's  home,  she 
should  be  at  the  old  harp,  and  that  this  figure  beside  her 
in  plain  civilian  dress  should  be  the  brilliant  Graf  von  Dov- 
sprung, the  idol  of  St.  Petersburg  drawing-rooms,  and  that 
he  should  be  singing  to  soothe  the  dying  hours  of  poor  Aunt 
Adele,  the  personification  of  her  lost  princely  lover. 

When  the  sad  pianissimo  of  the  last  phrases  died  away, 

364 


AFTER  MANY  YEARS 

two  tears  rolled  softly  down  Miss  Adele's  pallid  cheeks.  Her 
feeble  hand  was  stretched  out.  In  an  instant  Dovsprung 
was  at  her  side.  He  bent  down  and  touched  his  lips  to  the 
thin  fingers.  Then  clasping  the  hand  tenderly  in  both  of 
his,  he  gently  kissed  Miss  Adele  on  the  forehead. 

"  George,"  she  murmured,  "  George,  it  was  not  to  be,  on 
earth,  but  you  promised  we  should  meet  in  heaven.  I  have 
been  a  long,  long,  weary  time  in  coming,  but  I  am  here  at 
last! "  and  she  turned  her  head  a  little  to  one  side  and  seemed 
to  sleep. 

The  end  came  later  that  evening.  Miss  Louisa  had 
sent  for  their  clergyman,  who  read  the  prayers  for  the  Visita- 
tion of  the  Sick  with  much  reverence  and  expressiveness, 
and  said  a  few  kindly  words  to  all  present.  Miss  Adele  was 
beyond  hearing  them,  and  Miss  Louisa  seemed  to  have  fol- 
lowed her  sister  so  far  in  spirit  as  to  be  indifferent  to  earthly 
counsel.  Dovsprung  was  respectfully  silent  and,  like  Miss 
Louisa,  his  mind  appeared  to  be  elsewhere.  Faith  was 
struggling  against  overpowering  physical  fatigue.  Brandon 
alone  followed  the  clergyman's  words  with  reverent  and 
grateful  acceptance. 

Suddenly  Faith's  head  whirled  and  everything  turned 
dark  before  her  eyes.  She  groped  for  a  chair,  but  a  strong 
arm  was  thrown  around  her  waist,  while  she  felt  herself 
being  lifted  off  her  feet  and  carried  into  her  little  hall  bed- 
room, adjoining  that  of  Aunt  Adele.  She  was  conscious  of 
being  laid  tenderly  on  the  bed,  of  water  sprinkled  on  her 
face,  her  hands  being  gently  chafed,  and  she  opened  her 
eyes  to  see  Youri  AndreVich  bending  anxiously  over  her. 
The  door  into  her  aunt's  room  was  ajar,  that  leading  into  the 
hall  was  wide  open,  and  through  it  she  could  see  Brandon 
hurriedly  approaching  with  a  glass  in  his  hand.  She  tried 
to  lift  her  head,  but  it  was  weak  and  dizzy. 

"How  foolish,"  she  said  impatiently.  "I  never  did  such 
a  thing  before;  to  think  of  giving  way  at  such  a  moment." 

365 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"It  is  not  surprising,"  said  Dovsprung,  passing  his  arm 
gently  under  her  head  and  shoulders  and  half-lifting  her 
so  that  she  could  drink  more  easily.  "You  have  been  tiring 
yourself  out  for  me  for  six  weeks  past,  and  now  have  been 
on  your  feet  night  and  day  for  three  days.  I  have  been 
expecting  this  momentarily,"  and  he  laid  her  back  on  the 
pillows  again  and  began  to  bathe  her  forehead  with  cologne. 

"I  never  saw  any  one  die  before  but  my  own  mother," 
began  Faith,  tremulously. 

"I  wouldn't  talk  if  I  were  you,  just  yet,"  advised  Dov- 
sprung. "Keep  very  quiet  for  a  few  minutes  till  the  draught 
has  taken  effect." 

"You  must  save  your  strength  for  the  end,"  said  Brandon. 
"Aunt  Adele  may  want  you  then.  I  will  stand  in  the  hall 
doorway  and  beckon  you  if  there  is  any  marked  change. 
But  first  I  must  accompany  Doctor  Berkeley  to  his  carriage." 

Seeing  that  Faith's  pulse  was  already  stronger  and  the 
color  coming  back  into  her  lips,  Dovsprung  left  her  side 
and  went  to  the  window.  Faith  cast  a  hasty  glance  round 
the  room  to  notice  if  it  was  orderly,  for  certainly  the  last 
thing  in  the  world  she  would  have  expected  was  that  Youri 
Andrevich  should  enter  it.  The  little  room  had  been  hers 
for  nine  years  of  her  childhood  and  was  daintily  furnished 
for  a  child's  taste  with  birds  and  flowers  in  chintz  and  wall- 
paper, and  simply  framed  pictures  of  childhood  scenes. 

But  she  need  not  have  worried  about  the  appearance  of 
the  room,  for  the  man  by  the  window  was  thinking  of  some- 
thing far  different  from  the  young  girl  and  her  surroundings. 

After  the  clergyman's  departure  Brandon  tiptoed  upstairs. 
"Feeling  all  right  again,  Faithie?"  he  asked,  glancing  into 
the  room. 

"Yes,  the  stimulant  has  helped  me  and  my  head  is  quite 
steady  again,  but  I  will  save  my  strength  till  it  is  needed, 
as  you  advised." 

Brandon  put  on  his  Sunday  look.     "Was  it  not  beautiful?  " 

366 


AFTER  MANY  YEARS 

he  asked  in  awed  tones.  "Didn't  Doctor  Berkeley  read  the 
prayers  impressively?  " 

Neither  of  his  hearers  responded.  Dovsprung  was  staring 
out  of  the  window  and  Faith's  sad  smile  was  ambiguous. 

Brandon  tiptoed  back  to  the  hall  doorway. 

Dovsprung  now  turned  and  came  to  Faith's  side  again. 
He  saw  that  her  color  was  natural  once  more,  and  the 
strained  look  gone  from  her  face.  He  drew  a  long  sigh  and 
a  troubled  expression  came  into  his  deep,  heavily  fringed 
eyes. 

"Fides,"  he  asked,  "is  that  all  this  man  can  do  for  her?" 

"Whatman?    AU?    What  do  you  mean?  " 

He  moved  about  in  some  agitation,  though  he  kept  his 
voice  at  a  whisper  so  as  not  to  disturb  the  watchers  in  the 
adjourning  room. 

"This  clergyman,"  he  explained.  "Is  that  all  he  can  do 
for  a  soul  that  is  going  to  meet  its  Maker?  Do  you  know 
what  it  seems  like  to  us  Russians,  who  literally  die  in  the 
arms  of  Mother  Church  and  are  sung  to  sleep  on  her  bosom? 
Where  is  the  last  confession,  the  anointing  with  oil  of  one's 
sinful  members,  the  absolution,  the  penitential  cry  for 
mercy,  the  visit  of  the  Divine  Redeemer,  the  consolations 
of  the  holy  Viaticum,  the  invocation  of  those  gone  before 
in  the  Communion  of  Saints?  Oh,  why  must  she  die  where 
all  is  so  bare,  so  cold,  so  empty?  Why  does  she  not  hear 
the  chant  of  faith,  and  see  the  crucifix  before  her  eyes? 
Why  did  I  not  foresee  this,  and  sing  to  her  of  heavenly  Love 
and  Hope  and  Mercy?  " 

He  glanced  around  the  room  as  if  looking  for  some  famil- 
iar object.  Faith  knew  what  his  eyes  sought.  Where  was 
the  Ikona,  the  sacred  shrine  with  its  burning  lamp,  that 
is  in  every  room  of  every  Russian  home?  But  by  the  side 
of  her  bed  hung  an  engraving  of  the  exquisite,  sad-eyed  Boy- 
Christ  of  Murillo. 

Facing  the  picture,  Dovsprung  knelt  in  the  middle  of  the 

367 


FAITH  BRANDON 

room  and  prostrated  himself  till  his  forehead  touched  the 
floor.  Then,  lifting  his  head,  he  signed  himself  reverently 
three  times. 

"Will  you  say  the  Litanies  with  me,  Fides?"  he  asked. 
And,  bending  his  head,  he  began  devoutly,  "  Bogh,  pomi- 
lui!  Hrisi,  pomHuil*" 

And  Faith  closed  her  eyes  and  tried  to  repeat  the  re- 
sponses with  him  fervently  and  recollectedly.  But  ever 
before  her  mind  was  the  strangeness  of  the  thing.  There 
had  been  many  strange  events  in  her  short  life,  but  none 
more  than  this,  that  in  the  heart  of  Puritan  Boston,  in  the 
midst  of  this  Protestant  home,  Youri  von  Dovsprung,  de- 
scendant of  the  pagan  princes  of  Lithuania,  whom  she  had 
known  in  far  off  Russia  as  the  brilliant  courtier,  the  gay, 
unprincipled  worldling,  should  be  kneeling  here,  in  her 
room,  prostrated  by  her  bedside  and  praying:  "Christ  the 
Redeemer,  have  mercy  on  us!  Holy-Pure  Mother  of  God, 
pray  for  us  in  our  last  agony!" 

She  heard  Brandon's  footstep  softly  approaching. 

"She  is  going  fast,  it  is  the  end,"  he  whispered,  holding 
out  his  hand  to  Faith. 

She  arose  and  went  with  him  into  the  presence  of  Death. 

Dovsprung,  left  alone  in  the  little  chamber,  prostrated 
himself  at  full  length  on  the  floor,  with  arms  outstretched  in 
the  form  of  a  cross. 

"  They  know  not  all  they  have  lost,  but  I  —  I  had  the 
fulness  of  Thy  Grace,  and  I  rejected  it!"  he  groaned. 
"Oh,  pardon,  Saviour!  pardon  Thy  guilty  son,  and  hear 
my  poor  prayer  for  their  beloved  souls!" 

A  few  moments  later  he  felt  a  touch  on  his  shoulder.  He 
lifted  his  tear-stained  face  and  saw  Fides  kneeling  beside 
him. 

"We  think  she  is  looking  for  you,"  she  whispered. 

He  rose  and  followed  her  to  the  bedside  and  stood  there 

*Kyrie  eleison,  Christe  eleison!  God  have  mercy!  Christ  have 
mercy! 

368 


AFTER  MANY  YEARS 

looking  down  on  the  countenance  already  stamped  with  the 
dignity  of  death.  The  restless,  wandering  gaze,  the  only 
thing  in  which  there  seemed  life,  settled  on  his  face.  Once 
again  the  look  of  peace  filled  the  fading  eyes.  "  George," 
murmured  the  feeble  lips  for  the  last  time;  and  with  her 
hand  clasped  in  his  Miss  Adele  closed  her  tired  eyes  in  the 
last  sleep,  to  awake  in  the  land  where  God  shall  wipe  away 
all  tears. 


369 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE    BISHOP    RELENTS 

Beloved  one! 

No  longer  shall  I  live  in  this  white  world 

Parted  from  thee,  O  thou  my  star  of  hope! 

—  Russian  Folk-song. 

THREE  days  later  Miss  Adele  Ludlow  was  buried  from 
Trinity  Church,  which  the  sisters  had  attended  since  their 
residence  in  Boston.  Bishop  Ludlow  came  on  for  the  funeral 
and  sat  within  the  chancel,  in  flowing  robes  and  sleeves  of 
lawn,  while  the  service  was  read  by  Doctor  Berkeley.  Dov- 
sprung  was  in  the  chief  mourners'  pew  with  Miss  Louisa 
Faith  and  Brandon. 

The  edifice  was  well  filled,  for  in  a  certain  way  it  was  a 
mark  of  predilection  to  have  known  Miss  Ludlow  well 
enough  to  mourn  for  her,  and  Boston  society  wished  to  show 
its  appreciation  of  one  of  its  colonial  aristocracy. 

Many  glances  were  turned  in  curiosity  on  Dovsprung, 
and  it  was  whispered  that  he  was  of  the  family  of  Miss 
Adele's  princely  Austrian  lover.  This  made  her  romance 
seem  very  real,  and  it  was  detailed  with  embellishments 
for  nine  days  to  come.  The  strikingly  handsome,  sad-eyed, 
distinguished-looking  Pole  or  Hungarian  or  whatever  he 
might  be,  for  reports  varied,  attracted  all  eyes  and  many 
surmises.  He  seemed  to  have  dropped  from  the  skies.  His 
name  had  not  been  heralded  in  the  society  publications. 
Neither  Newport,  nor  Lenox,  nor  Washington  knew  of  him. 
Why  was  he  in  this  country?  The  most  natural  answer 
would  be  —  for  a  wife.  But  surely  a  foreign  nobleman 
in  search  of  a  wife  would  hardly  seek  her  in  so  modest  a 

370 


THE  BISHOP  RELENTS 

home  as  that  of  the  Misses  Ludlow  and  their  almost  penniless 
niece.  The  elder  Brandon  girls  had  money,  one  had  made 
an  excellent  match  in  England,  and  it  was  gathered  from  her 
insinuations  that  Miss  Genevieve  had  refused  at  least  three 
brilliant  offers  while  in  Europe.  But  Faith  Brandon,  with 
all  her  accomplishments,  was  no  match  for  a  titled  foreigner. 
Therefore  it  must  be  supposed  that  he  was  on  some  mis- 
sion to  Miss  Adele  Ludlow  from  the  family  of  her  former 
betrothed.  How  touchingly  interesting,  after  all  these 
years! 

Dovsprung  returned  with  the  family  from  the  burial  at 
Mt.  Auburn  to  the  Ludlow  home.  He  was  to  leave  im- 
mediately with  Brandon  for  New  York,  whence  he  would 
sail  for  Libau. 

Miss  Louisa,  before  mounting  to  her  lonely  room,  turned 
to  bid  him  farewell. 

"I  have  no  words  to  tell  you  what  you  have  been  to  us," 
she  said.  "You  were  sent  of  God.  Wherever  you  wander, 
may  He  lead  you  into  paths  of  peace";  and  as  he  stooped  to 
kiss  her  hand,  she  laid  her  other  hand  upon  his  head  and, 
bending  forward,  kissed  him  on  the  brow.  Then  she  drew 
her  heavy  veil  about  her,  and,  slowly  mounting  the  stairs, 
shut  herself  in  with  her  sorrow. 

The  bishop  came  forward  and  shook  Dovsprung  heartily 
by  both  hands.  "I  never  saw  your  uncle,"  he  said.  "I 
was  reading  for  Holy  Orders  in  England  at  the  time  of 
my  sister's  engagement.  But,  certainly,  in  your  presence 
here  at  such  a  time  we  must  see  the  guidance  of  the  Divine 
Hand,"  and  he  lifted  his  eyes  heavenward  and  made  a 
vague  motion  in  the  air  which  might  or  might  not  have  been 
an  attempt  at  the  sign  of  the  Cross.  He  was  not  sure 
whether  this  gentleman,  whom  he  understood  to  be  of 
the  Greek  Rite,  would  recognize  his  episcopal  character, 
and  he  was  doubtful  whether  to  convey  his  blessing  after 
the  Byzantine  or  the  Greek  manner.  But  apparently 


FAITH  BRANDON 

the  foreign  gentleman  was  quite  unconscious  of  the  epis- 
copal good-will,  for  he  held  his  handsome  head  high  and 
smiled  in  a  straightforward,  friendly  way,  as  one  layman  to 
another. 

The  two  cousins  had  been  bidding  each  other  an  affec- 
tionate good-bye,  when  Brandy  was  seized  with  one  of  his 
inspirations. 

"Just  think,"  he  said  to  Dovsprung,  "if  my  aunt 
had  married  your  uncle,  Faith  and  I  would  be  your 
cousins.  I  know  there  must  be  some  occult  connection 
between  us." 

Dovsprung  had  turned  toward  Faith.  He  was  visibly 
deeply  moved,  but  she  felt  with  a  woman's  unerring  instinct 
that  the  solemn  scenes  of  the  last  few  days  had  changed  his 
mood,  and  that  the  emotion  he  was  now  struggling  with  was 
a  higher,  more  sacred  one  than  that  which  had  so  shaken 
him  at  their  last  interview  in  this  same  room.  She  need 
not  fear  to  follow  the  innocent  promptings  of  her  tender 
heart. 

"Dear  St.  George,"  she  whispered,  "you  do  not  wish 
to  be  my  brother  or  my  friend,  but  I  am  going  to  treat  you 
like  a  loving  cousin,"  and  she  embraced  him  with  the 
same  affectionate  warmth  she  had  shown  to  Brandon. 

For  a  moment  he  was  too  overcome  to  speak.  He  held 
the  innocent  girl  to  his  manly  heart  with  deepest  reverence 
and  tenderness,  and  kissed  her  brow  and  cheek  with  such 
a  kiss  of  purest  affection  as  had  not  passed  his  lips  since  the 
days  of  long  ago  when  he  had  a  little  sister  to  love  and  caress, 
who  had  loved  him  with  enthusiastic  devotion.  "Fides, 
little  cousin,"  he  whispered,  with  a  half-sob,  "little  friend, 
little  sister!  Good-bye,  dear  love!  Good-bye  to  all  I  most 
crave!  God  keep  you,  Fides!  my  good  angel!  my  ideal!" 

He  released  her,  and  a  heavy  sigh  burst  from  him,  but  he 
stifled  it  bravely. 

In  another  moment  he  had  left  her  and  followed  Brandon 

372 


THE  BISHOP  RELENTS 

out  into  the  hall  and  down  the  steps  to  where  the  automobile 
waited  for  them. 

"Faith,"  said  the  bishop,  "I  should  like  to  understand  just 
what  that  man's  position  is." 

"  His  position?"  faltered  Faith.  "Do  you  mean  toward 
me?" 

"Er  —  well,  of  course  I  wish  to  inquire  into  that,  also. 
It  seems  rather  unusual.  But  I  meant  more  particularly 
just  now  to  inquire  into  his  position  ecclesiastically.  I 
think  he  said  he  was  a  Catholic,  but  a  Greek  and  not  a 
Romanist." 

"He  is  a  Catholic  of  the  Greco-Slavonic  Rite  in  union  with 
Rome,"  explained  Faith.  "He  received  the  sacraments  at 
the  hospital  from  one  of  the  Jesuit  Fathers." 

"Well,  well!  I  am  sorry  for  that!  I  hoped  that  he 
would  feel  he  was  one  of  us!  I  should  have  been  glad  to 
visit  him  at  the  hospital,  if  I  had  known.  I  thought  that 
he  seemed  rather  impressed  by  our  burial  service.  Every- 
thing was  conducted  with  much  dignity,  and  Mr.  Prang's 
selections  on  the  organ  seemed  to  be  in  the  best  of  taste. 
All  the  representative  people  of  Boston  were  present.  It 
was  very  gratifying." 

Faith  was  silent.  Her  uncle  had  been  in  Russia  many 
weeks;  could  it  be  that  he  had  never  heard  the  solemn 
memorial  liturgy  and  the  wonderful  music  of  the  Slavonic 
Rites,  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  religous  music  the  world 
has  known?  Had  he  never  seen  the  praying,  the  worship- 
ing multitudes,  the  magnificent  ceremonial,  the  mystery 
of  adoration,  the  heart-rending  lament  of  penance,  the  cry 
for  peace  and  mercy,  that  mark  the  ancient  liturgies  of 
Chrysostom,  and  Basil,  and  Gregory?*  No  doubt  Youri 

*There  are  three  distinct  liturgies  in  use  in  the  Russian  Church,  two 
translated  into  the  Old-Slavonic  from  the  Greek,  and  one  from  the 
Latin.  The  liturgy  of  St.  Basil  is  used  ten  times  during  the  ecclesias- 
tical year.  That  of  St.  Gregory,  Pope  of  Rome,  called  the  "  Mass  of 
the  Pre-Sanctified,"  is  used  sixteen  times,  in  Lent.  On  other  days  the 
liturgy  used  is  that  of  St.  John  Chrysostom. 

373 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Andrevich  had  been  impressed  by  the  service  he  had  seen 
that  morning,  but  not  as  the  good  bishop  wished,  —  im- 
pressed rather  by  what  it  lacked  than  what  it  presented! 

"And  now,  Faith,"  resumed  the  bishop,  in  business-like 
tones,  "I  think  it  is  time  we  discussed  the  other  situation. 
What  are  your  relations  to  this  man?  Are  you  engaged  to 
him?  Have  you  given  up  the  other  man  with  whom  you 
were  so  infatuated  a  year  ago?  I  must  say  that  if  you  are 
obstinately  bent  on  marrying  a  Russian  in  any  case,  I  should 
much  prefer  the  Orthodox  to  the  Romanist.  Nay,  that  is 
hardly  strong  enough.  I  might  consent  to  your  belonging  to 
the  Orthodox  Branch  of  the  Catholic  Church,  but  never, 
never  would  I  permit  you  to  embrace  the  Roman  Schism!" 

"I  have  not  given  up  the  other  man,"  said  Faith,  ear- 
nestly. "  Graf  von  Dovsprung  is  a  life-long  friend  of  Prince 
Solntsoff  and  his  sister,  and  he  has  been  like  a  brother  to 
them  and  to  me." 

"A  pretty  friend,"  echoed  the  bishop.  "It  looks  very 
friendly  indeed  to  be  making  love  to  you  behind  the  other 
man's  back." 

Faith  shook  her  head  sadly.  "Do  not  misunderstand 
him.  He  is  not  making  love  to  me,"  she  explained  un- 
willingly. "He  once  asked  me  to  marry  him,  but  that 
was  long  ago,  in  Russia.  He  knows  now  how  much  I  care 
for  Lyova,  and  he  would  rather  cut  off  his  hand  than 
be  false  to  his  friend.  I  embraced  him  as  I  would  a  dear 
brother  before  you  all;  but  I  could  not  have  done  so  had  I 
not  been  sure  of  his  honor  and  loyalty." 

The  bishop  looked  unconvinced.  "I  am  glad  he  is  gone. 
You  were  in  great  danger,"  he  said.  "You,  who  have  no 
knowledge  of  men,  may  think  him  like  a  brother;  but  I  say 
that  a  man  of  his  age  and  physique  and  temperament  does 
not  love  a  young  and  attractive  woman  like  a  sister.  If 
you  wish  to  keep  faith  with  Prince  Solntsoff,  beware  of  this 
man  who  calls  himself  his  friend  and  your  brother.  He 

374 


THE  BISHOP  RELENTS 

is  the  clever  and  determined  sort  of  man  that  women  can- 
not resist.  He  will  win  you  in  the  end.  Beware!  I  know 
the  type!" 

Faith  colored  and  looked  distressed,  but  there  was  no 
use  trying  to  explain  further.  She  could  only  take  comfort  in 
the  fact  that  her  uncle  had  referred  to  her  marriage  with 
Lyeff  Petrovich  as  to  something  within  the  realm  of 
possibility.  That  was  already  a  great  concession.  Now 
that  his  heart  was  soft  she  would  plead  with  him. 

But  at  that  moment  a  message  came  from  Miss  Louisa, 
desiring  the  bishop  to  speak  with  her  in  her  room. 

He  went  up  almost  timidly.  He  was  a  man  of  strong 
family  feeling  and  he  believed  himself  deeply  attached  to 
his  sisters,  but  as  a  matter  of  fact  he  had  very  slight  acquaint- 
ance with  them.  They  had  always  weighed  a  little  on  his 
mind.  It  made  him  feel  uncomfortable  that  he  and  his 
wife  and  children  should  be  living  in  a  certain  luxury  and 
ease,  while  his  sisters  were  so  straitened  in  their  circum- 
stances and  obliged  to  support  themselves  by  their  accom- 
plishments. At  one  time  he  had  even  thought  of  offering 
them  a  small  yearly  allowance  but  had  been  discouraged 
from  this  by  his  wife,  who  considered  it  a  foolish  idea.  The 
Misses  Ludlow  really  needed  nothing  more.  As  for  being 
obliged  to  support  themselves,  why,  they  had  nothing  else 
to  do,  and  their  classes  gave  them  something  to  think  of 
beside  their  own  health,  and  were,  in  fact,  a  pleasant  social 
relaxation.  They  had  a  great  deal  to  be  thankful  for,  with 
a  house  of  their  own  and  an  assured  income.  Very  few  un- 
married women  were  so  well  placed  in  this  world. 

The  bishop  had  learned  to  look  at  it  with  his  wife's  eyes, 
yet  he  went  to  his  sister  with  a  certain  timidity.  What 
if  Louisa  should  say  that  she  could  not  keep  up  her  classes 
alone,  and  should  appeal  to  him  to  do  something  for  her? 
It  would  be  very  awkward  to  refuse;  but  with  his  large 
and  expensive  family  and  the  cares  of  a  diocese 

375 


FAITH  BRANDON 

His  sister  stood  at  her  door  to  receive  him,  in  all  the 
gentle  dignity  of  her  sorrow.  He  kissed  her  quite  tenderly 
and  found  himself  wondering  how  any  one  could  talk  of 
money  to  her,  and  in  what  impersonal  manner  the  pupils 
paid  for  their  lessons.  He  recovered  himself  with  a  start, 
and  began  to  say  something  appropriate  to  the  occasion 
about  resignation  under  the  chastening  Hand,  but  Miss 
Louisa  interrupted  him. 

"It  is  not  of  myself,  or  of  our  common  sorrow,  that  I 
wish  to  speak,"  she  said,  "but  of  Faith.  She  has  been  an 
honorable  and  conscientious  child  and  has  kept  with  scrupu- 
lous fidelity  her  promise  not  to  mention  her  affairs  to  us. 
It  is  only  through  Rupert's  letters  to  my  sister  Adele  that 
we  know  of  her  unhappiness.  By  the  grief  we  share  in  the 
loss  of  that  dear  sister,  the  heart-broken  woman  whom  we 
have  laid  in  her  grave  this  day,  I  appeal  to  you,  my  brother, 
to  withdraw  your  opposition  to  Faith's  marriage." 

"Oh,  ah,  I  —  er,"  began  the  bishop.  "My  dear  Louisa, 
I  have  nothing  to  do  with  her  marrying  or  not  marrying. 
Let  her  marry  whom  she  pleases,  so.  long  as  she  does  not 
marry  out  of  the  Church  while  she  is  under  my  guardian- 
ship." 

"Wilfred,"  said  his  sister  solemnly,  "remember  that 
Adele's  broken  life  is  at  your  door!  My  own  sorrow  I  alone 
am  answerable  for.  It  was  my  own  pride  and  my  poverty 
that  made  me  withdraw  from  a  match  that  had  been  ar- 
ranged in  days  when  my  father  could  have  given  me  a  suit- 
able dowry.  With  Adele,  it  was  otherwise." 

"Erdody  jilted  her!"  declared  the  bishop,  bluntly. 

"No,  Wilfred!  It  was  your  vehement  opposition  that 
forced  him  to  withdraw,"  said  his  sister,  firmly.  "Adele 
could  have  married  him  and  have  remained  in  her  Prot- 
estant faith  and  not  sacrificed  one  of  her  religious  beliefs. 
She  was  satisfied  to  be  married  by  his  clergyman  and  had 
freely  consented  to  this,  when  you  interfered  and  demanded 

376 


THE  BISHOP  RELENTS 

that  he  should  sacrifice  points  that  would  mean  cutting 
himself  off  from  the  religion  of  his  family,  of  his  ancestors 
and  of  his  country.  Do  not  now  ruin  Faith's  young  life. 
Leave  her  heart  and  her  conscience  free  to  choose  be- 
tween the  two  men  who  love  her,  the  Orthodox  and  the 
Catholic!" 

"'Roman'  Catholic,"  corrected  the  bishop. 

"It  is  the  same.  In  your  heart  you  know  it  is,"  said  Miss 
Louisa  with  considerable  spirit,  though  without  losing  her 
gentle  gravity  of  manner.  "If  I  believed,  as  you  profess 
to  believe,  that  it  is  necessary  to  be  a  Catholic,  it  is  to  Rome 
I  should  go,  as  the  head  and  centre  of  the  Universal  Church, 
and  not  to  any  national  organization.  But  I  am  a  Prot- 
estant. I  have  been  brought  up  to  glory  in  Protestantism. 
The  Epsicopal  Church,  the  Episcopal  liturgy,  are  mere 
forms  of  Church  government  and  public  worship,  they  do 
not  alter  the  fundamental  principle  of  Protestantism." 

If  Miss  Louisa  had  put  on  mitre  and  chasuble  and  as- 
cended the  pulpit  of  St.  Paul's  cathedral  her  brother  could 
not  have  been  more  dumbfounded  than  at  this  declaration. 
He  paced  the  narrow  room  in  the  utmost  agitation. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  groaned.  "Louisa!  Louisa!  let 
me  beg  of  you !  Don't  let  Faith  hear  any  such  opinions  from 
you!  She  is  half  way  to  Rome  already!  This  man  that  has 
turned  up,  this  nephew  of  Erdody's,  is  moving  heaven  and 
earth  to  win  her,  and  he  will  succeed.  He  is  just  the  daring, 
conquering  sort  of  fellow  that  will  sweep  her  off  her  feet 
some  day.  It  is  plain  to  be  seen  that  she  has  a  tender 
leaning  toward  him  already.  For  heaven's  sake,  don't 
encourage  her  with  any  such  balderdash  as  you  have  been 
talking  to  me.  Excuse  me,  Louisa!  At  such  a  moment 
I  should  be  nicer  in  my  use  of  language  toward  you,  but  this 
cuts  deep!  I  will  let  her  marry  Solntsoff  to-morrow  if  it 
will  save  her  from  this  other  man's  Jesuitical  influence.  The 
Russian  schism  is  a  lesser  evil  than  Rome!" 

377 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"I  appreciate  that  the  situation  is  a  difficult  one  for  you, 
Wilfred,"  said  his  sister,  kindly.  "Let  me  suggest  to  you 
that  you  resign  your  spiritual  guardianship  of  Faith,  and 
leave  the  responsibility  of  her  marriage  and  all  it  may  en- 
tail to  her  father  and  her  brother.  No  one  can  hold  you 
accountable  if  they  consent.  You  know  Charles  Brandon 
will  do  so  the  moment  your  opposition  is  withdrawn.  I, 
of  course,  cannot  live  alone  in  this  house  with  all  its  sad 
associations " 

The  bishop  began  to  feel  shaky.  What  was  she  going 
to  propose? 

"I  shall  sell  it  as  soon  as  may  be.  The  proceeds  of  the 
sale  together  with  the  income  I  already  enjoy  will  enable 
me  to  revisit  the  scenes  of  my  childhood  and  end  my  days 
in  one  of  the  smaller  German  or  Italian  cities,  where  I  shall 
settle  in  a  little  apartment  with  a  maid.  Faith  will  take 
me  over.  We  will  visit  Rupert  and  she  can  be  married  from 
his  house.  He  already  intends  to  give  Faith  the  six  thousand 
pounds  that  their  mother  brought  to  his  father,  since  he  and 
his  children  are  amply  provided  for  by  Lord  Solway.  Even 
if  the  marriage  never  takes  place,  she  will  thus  be,  in  a 
measure,  independent  and  can  make  her  home  with  me  if 
she  desires." 

The  bishop  was  greatly  relieved.  This  was  certainly 
an  excellent  plan.  It  disposed  at  once  of  two  great  diffi- 
culties, his  sister's  future  and  the  danger  of  his  niece's  going 
over  to  Rome.  He  acquiesced  heartily  in  Miss  Louisa's  idea 
and  lost  no  time  in  carrying  it  out.  Charles  Brandon  and 
Rupert  Milbanke  must  look  after  their  own  daughter  and 
sister.  He  could  not  be  burdened  longer  with  other  people's 
children.  He  had  his  own  family  and  the  cares  of  his  diocese. 

He  sent  for  Faith  and  had  a  long  interview  with  her  that 
•evening.  He  went  at  some  length  into  a  statement  of 
his  weighty  episcopal  duties,  the  absorbing  anxiety  of  his 
own  growing  family,  the  advisability  of  Faith's  accompany- 

37S 


THE  BISHOP  RELENTS 

ing  her  Aunt  Louisa  to  Europe,  the  difficulties  of  his  exercis- 
ing his  guardianship  over  her  when  separated  by  the  ocean, 
and  finally  worked  up  to  the  question  of  resigning  this 
responsibility. 

"If  your  father  should  see  fit  to  remove  my  restrictions 
and  allow  your  marriage  to  Solntsoff  to  take  place,"  he 
declared,  "let  him  be  accountable  for  the  decision.  I  shall 
wash  my  hands  of  the  affair." 

"Oh,"  cried  Faith,  joyously,  "then  consider  your  hands 
as  good  as  washed  already,  for,  as  soon  as  your  opposition 
is  withdrawn,  Father  will  give  in  at  once.  You  have  been 
his  backbone." 

Now  the  bishop  prided  himself  on  having  in  abund- 
ance those  qualities  of  firmness,  determination  and  energy 
familiarly  known  as  "backbone."  He  had  enough  for  his 
own  needs  and  to  spare  for  those  who  lacked,  among  whom 
he  numbered  his  brother-in-law.  Therefore  he  smiled 
benignantly  at  Faith's  allusion.  She  was  a  very  intelligent 
child.  What  a  pity  it  was  she  had  been  perverted  by  her 
foreign  lover.  She  would  have  made  an  excellent  wife  for 
a  brilliant  young  clergyman,  or  for  a  rising  young  diplomat 
with  High  Church  views  and  a  missionary  spirit.  It  was 
too  bad!  Too  bad! 

Undoubtedly  the  daughter  and  the  brother-in-law  had 
taken  the  measure  of  Mr.  Brandon's  character,  for  in  the 
temporary  absence  of  his  daughter  Genevieve,  and  de- 
prived of  the  bishop's  support,  he  gave  way  little  by  little. 
He  told  Faith  that  he  had  never  had  any  wish  to  oppose 
her,  that  he  had  only  tried  to  do  his  duty  by  her  as  others 
seemed  to  see  it  for  him.  He  believed  that  she  should  wait 
out  the  year  that  Prince  Solntsoff  had  agreed  to,  but  he 
asked  nothing  further.  Anything  more  would  be  per- 
secution. She  should  then  be  free  to  worship  her  Maker 
in  the  way  she  loved  best,  and  she  should  be  free  to  marry 
and  live  with  the  man  she  loved  best. 

379 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"As  for  living  in  his  country,"  he  went  on,  "I  have  roved 
about  so  much  and  visited  so  many  out  of  the  way  places 
in  my  scientific  researches,  and  have  found  so  much  unex- 
pected goodness  and  attractiveness  in  the  most  unpromising 
spots,  that  I  am  not  afraid  but  that  you  may  be  very  happy 
in  a  country  so  richly  endowed  as  Russia.  As  for  the  man 
you  wish  to  marry,  the  ideal  American  gentleman  I  would 
have  chosen  for  you  could  not  be  a  more  democratic,  hard- 
working, useful  citizen  than  this  Russian  who,  by  some 
strange  anomaly,  was  born  an  aristocrat  and  bred  at  the 
court  of  an  Autocrat.  You  have  been  a  dutiful  and  obedient 
child.  Continue  to  fulfill  the  conditions  of  your  test  honor- 
ably till  the  year  is  out,  and  on  your  nineteenth  birthday  1 
will  write  him  that  all  restrictions  are  removed.  If  he,  too, 
has  stood  the  test,  then  you  will  have  the  reward  most 
precious  to  a  good  woman  —  a  faithful,  Christian  husband." 

Then  he  cried  a  little,  and  Faith  cried,  too:  and  he  whis- 
pered to  her,  with  a  sudden  stiffening  of  his  spinal  consis- 
tency, that  her  uncle,  the  bishop,  had  been  a  meddlesome 
bag  of  wind!  At  that  they  both  laughed  and  grew  cheerful 
again! 

The  clouds  had  lifted.  The  days  sped  on.  Summer 
came  and  went,  bringing  with  it  the  peace  that  Dovsprung 
had  so  dreaded.  Brandon  had  received  a  grateful  letter 
from  him  refunding  the  sums  borrowed,  and  Miss  Ludlow 
had  also  had  a  courteous  note,  thanking  her  for  her  hospi- 
tality but  giving  no  news  of  his  own  affairs. 

Fate  seemed  to  smile  on  Miss  Ludlow's  plans.  Late  in 
the  summer  the  house  found  a  purchaser.  Faith  worked 
hard  superintending  its  dismantling,  the  sorting  and  pack- 
ing of  the  furniture  and  many  smaller  possessions,  and  six 
months  after  Miss  Adele's  death  and  funeral  and  Dovsprung's 
departure,  she  and  her  Aunt  Louisa  sailed  from  New  York 
to  Southampton. 

Faith  was  weary  almost  to  the  limit  of  her  endurance 

380 


THE  BISHOP  RELENTS 

when  the  task  was  over.  Everything  had  come  upon  her 
unassisted,  for  Miss  Louisa  was  not  strong  and  was  greatly 
broken  by  the  severing  of  the  last  tie  that  bound  her  to  her 
home  and  family.  Faith  must  decide  every  question,  must 
manage  all  the  business  affairs,  must  attend  to  all  the  prac- 
tical details,  must  keep  up  her  aunt's  courage.  There  was 
no  one  to  turn  to  for  counsel  or  help. 

Little  wonder  that,  busy  and  tired,  overwhelmed  in  mind 
and  body,  questions  of  theology  did  not  press  upon  her. 
When  she  reached  London  her  test  would  be  over,  she 
would  be  free  to  investigate,  free  to  study  the  proposition, — 
fast  growing  to  a  conviction, —  that  union  with  the  See  of 
Peter  was  an  essential  duty;  she  would  have  time  to  pray 
and  to  think.  But  one  point  was  clear  to  her.  She  must 
not  marry  Lyova  and,  as  his  wife,  become  subject  to  the 
rigid  laws  of  the  Russian  State  Church  while  this  doubt 
lay  on  her  mind.  Until  it  was  solved,  one  way  or  another, 
she  must  retain  her  freedom  of  conscience.  God  help  them 
both  in  this  new  trial! 

Then,  just  before  they  sailed,  came  the  Constitutional 
Proclamation  of  late  October  assuring,  among  other  liberties, 
that  of  religious  freedom  to  the  Russian  people.  Faith's 
heart  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy.  Surely  the  last 
remaining  shadow  between  Lyova  and  herself  was  now 
dispelled!  Now  there  would  be  no  difficulty,  there  need 
be  no  separation.  Even  as  a  Russian,  even  as  Ly6va's 
Orthodox  wife,  she  would  be  free.  No  religious  scruple 
need  longer  hold  her  back  from  her  happiness. 

There  had  been  time  to  exchange  communications  with 
Rupert,  now  transferred  to  a  post  in  the  Foreign  Office  in 
London,  and  a  few  days  before  they  started,  Mr.  Brandon 
showed  to  Faith  a  formal  letter  which  he  had  composed  to 
Prince  Solntsoff .  It  told  him  that  all  restrictions  had  now 
been  removed  from  Faith's  freedom  of  action  and  that  she 
was  to  accompany  her  aunt  to  London.  It  expressed  good 


FAITH  BRANDON 

will  toward  the  prince  and  the  hope  that,  whether  they 
renewed  their  engagement  or  not,  which  now  depended 
entirely  upon  themselves,  he  and  Faith  would  decide  for 
their  own  best  individual  happiness. 

Faith  made  eager  calculations.  If  Lyeff  Petrovich  were 
hi  St.  Petersburg  it  was  just  possible  that  a  reply  might  meet 
her  in  London,  or  soon  after  her  arrival  there.  Oh,  the 
joy  of  being  in  touch  with  him  again !  He  would  long  since 
have  had  Dovsprung's  letter,  and  know  of  her  truth  and 
fidelity;  but  he  would  not  dream  of  this  present  hap- 
piness. 

The  voyage  was  stormy,  and  Miss  Ludlow  was  distress- 
ingly ill,  her  heart  being  much  affected.  Faith  had  anxious 
days  and  nights,  and  was  greatly  relieved  when  the  ship  drew 
into  the  shelter  and  quiet  of  the  English  harbor. 

It  was  cold  and  there  was  a  drizzling  rain  as  Faith  and 
her  aunt,  standing  on  the  gangplank,  saw,  among  the  many 
waiting  figures,  Rupert  Milbanke,  slim,  brown,  well-groomed, 
with  monocle  in  eye;  her  sister  Sophy  with  Mr.  Trevor,  and 
her  friends,  Baron  and  Baroness  Stourdza.  They  exchanged 
enthusiastic  signals  of  greeting  with  Faith.  She  gathered 
up  their  smaller  belongings,  a  man  having  pushed  his  way 
toward  her  to  relieve  her  of  heavy  rug  and  suitcase,  and 
she  carefully  piloted  Miss  Ludlow  down  the  crowded  gang- 
plank and  then  hurried  forward  to  embrace  her  stepbrother 
and  sister  and  waiting  friends.  Rupert's  likeness  to  his 
Aunt  Adele  was  striking  and  deeply  affected  Miss  Louisa, 
who  had  not  seen  him  in  many  years. 

"And,  oh,  Rupert,"  said  Faith,  when  the  first  pathetic 
greetings  were  well  over,  "did  you  notice  whether  any  mail 
had  come  for  me  before  you  left  London?" 

"Yes,  a  large  one,"  replied  Rupert,  with  a  twinkle  in  the 
eye  that  was  at  liberty. 

"Did  you  notice  whether  it  was  from  Russia?"  ex- 
citedly. 

382 


THE  BISHOP  RELENTS 

"All  of  it  was  from  Russia,"  answered  the  grinning 
brother. 

"Oh,  I  wish  you  had  brought  it  with  you!" 

"I  did!    It  is  here!"  he  announced,  genially. 

With  an  exclamation  of  delight  Faith  made  a  dive  for 
his  overcoat  pocket. 

"Oh,  pshaw!  It  was  too  big  for  my  pocket,"  he  said, 
pulling  away  from  her.  "It  was  big  enough  to  stand  alone 
and  come  by  itself.  It  is  behind  you  now!" 

Faith  grew  white  and  trembling.  Turning  slowly,  she 
looked  behind  her.  There,  with  her  rug  on  his  arm  and  her 
suitcase  at  his  feet,  stood  a  tall,  fair  man  in  a  long  gray 
raincoat,  his  soft  felt  hat  pulled  well  down  over  his  laughing, 
light-blue  eyes.  In  an  instant  his  hat  was  off,  his  arms 
were  around  her,  and  Faith,  with  her  head  against  his 
breast,  heard  the  heavy  throbbing  of  the  constant  heart  of 
Ly6ff  Petrovich! 


383 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE   DELAYED    LETTER 

"  If  the  woe  in  which  I  live 

Ever  reach  thy  generous  ear, 
Pity  not,  but,  oh,  forgive 
Thy  devoted  worshiper! 

"  Yet  could  I  subdue  my  pain, 

Soothe  affection's  rankling  smart 
Ne'er  would  I  resume  again 
The  lost  empire  of  my  heart. 

"  Thou  my  love,  art  sovereign  there ! 

There  thou  hast  a  living  shrine  — 
Let  my  portion  be  despair 
If  the  light  of  bliss  be  thine." 

—  N.  A.  Mektski. 

"FAITH!    You  will  not  keep  me  waiting?" 

"Not  if  you  will  take  me  just  as  I  am." 

"Did  I  not  tell  you  that  I  should  be  content  with  you 
in  sackcloth?  but  it  need  not  be  as  bad  as  that!  I  took  my 
chances,  Faith!  I  brought  with  me  the  historical  Russian 
bridal  costume  and  headdress,  worn  by  my  mother  and  my 
sister  at  their  weddings.  How  often  I  have  pictured  you  in 
it!  You  will  wear  it,  will  you  not?" 

"You  were  very  sure  of  me!  Yes,  it  will  be  sweet  to 
wear  what  is  so  full  of  tender  associations.  The  rest  of 
my  wardrobe  is  black  on  account  of  having  been  so  long  in 
mourning,  and  there  is  little  enough  at  best,  but,"  smiling 
affectionately  at  him,  "I  shall  not  disappoint  you  for  the 
sake  of  a  few  furbelows." 

"Alas!  Mourning  is  only  too  appropriate  for  Russia 
now,"  he  said,  drawing  her  close  to  his  side.  "Faith,  this 
is  Saturday.  I  must  be  at  home  by  next  Thursday  evening. 

384 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

It  is  fifty  hours  of  steady  travel.  I  shall  have  to  leave 
Tuesday  afternoon.  I  wish— "he  hesitated.  "Is  it  too 
much?" 

She  looked  up  with  crimson  cheeks.  "You  wish  that 
we  might  be  married  to-morrow?"  she  asked  bravely. 

He  kissed  her  passionately.    Who  could  help  it? 

"We  could  then  have  two  days  together  at  Cologne  or 
Berlin  —  a  poor  apology  for  a  bridal  trip;  but  you  are 
marrying  a  man  who  is  sad  at  heart  about  his  country's 
troubles  and  eager  to  get  back  to  his  work.  We  must  put  off 
our  honeymoon  till  brighter  days,"  he  sighed. 

"What  can  be  better  than  a  honeymoon  in  our  own  home?" 
she  said,  tenderly. 

"Such  a  small  home,  but  all  ours,  and  so  long  waited  for! 
And  dear  old  Avdotia  Ilinichna  will  be  with  us  for  a  while, 
till  you  learn  the  mysteries  of  Russian  housekeeping.  Now," 
he  added,  energetically,  "if  you  have  any  shopping  to  do, 
I  will  give  you  up  for  the  day.  Meanwhile  I  shall  go  to  the 
Imperial  Embassy  to  take  out  the  legal  papers  and  arrange 
with  Father  Uspenski  for  the  religious  ceremonies.  In  the 
evening  we  will  both  go  to  confession,  and  receive  the 
sacrament  together  in  the  morning.  After  the  marriage 
ceremony  you  will  have  the  afternoon  to  pack  and  rest,  and 
we  will  take  the  evening  train  for  Dover." 

Unexpected  delays  arose.  There  were  legal  and  religious 
requirements  to  be  met  on  both  sides,  and  it  was  found 
impossible  to  have  the  marriage  before  Tuesday.  Solntsoff 
chafed  at  the  delay.  He  had  counted  on  the  two  holidays 
together;  but  now  they  must  start  immediately  after  the 
ceremonies  of  the  morning  and  the  formal  wedding  breakfast, 
which  Rupert  insisted  upon,  attended  only  by  the  American 
and  Russian  Embassies,  the  Trevors  and  the  Stourdzas. 
Then  would  come  the  unbroken  journey  of  fifty  hours  of 
fatiguing  travel,  in  the  publicity  of  a  train  —  a  most  un- 
romantic  and  trying  culmination  of  their  long  courtship. 

335 


FAITH  BRANDON 

While  Solntsoff  was  seeing  to  the  legal  arrangements, 
Rupert  hung  round  Faith,  as  she  took  stock  of  her  slender 
wardrobe. 

"So,  I  shall  not  have  you,  after  all,"  he  complained. 
"  What  are  the  boys  going  to  do,  Faith?  I  am  in  a  desperate 
plight.  If  the  children  are  with  me,  I  have  to  leave  them 
with  irresponsible  governesses  and  tutors  and  they  are 
spoiled.  Yet  if  I  let  them  stay  with  Amy's  parents  I  get 
so  horribly  lonely.  Those  few  months  you  were  with  us 
were  so  sweet.  I  think  I  shall  have  to  adopt  an  aunt  or  a 
sister  for  them." 

"That  would  have  its  dangers,  too,"  observed  Faith, 
shrewdly. 

Rupert  blushed.    Faith  saw  the  blush  and  laughed  slyly. 

"You  might  as  well  tell  me  who  it  is  at  once,"  she  said. 

"Now,  how  did  you  know?"  he  exclaimed  in  surprise. 

"Confess!    Confess!"  she  cried,  merrily. 

"You  see,  Faith  dear,"  began  Rupert,  with  a  timidity  and 
hesitation  quite  unexpected  in  a  British  diplomat.  "I  do 
not  think  I  could  ever  love  a  very  young  woman  again.  Amy 
had  a  place  in  my  heart  that  I  do  not  care  to  have  filled.  I 
wish  to  keep  the  memory  of  her  sweet  youth  and  freshness 
as  something  sacred  and  apart.  If  I  —  if  I  ever  marry,  it 
would  be  some  one  near  my  present  age,  some  one  whom  I 
am  attracted  to  by  entirely  different  qualities,  a  —  a  widow, 
for  instance." 

"Yes,"  agreed  Faith.    "Then  you  would  be  quits." 

"And,  you  see,"  he  continued,  "if  she  had,  say,  two  chil- 
dren, I  could  notice  how  she  brings  them  up  and  judge  if  she 
would  be  a  good  mother  for  my  boys." 

"Would  they  be  boys,  too?"  inquired  Faith,  with  interest. 

"Perhaps  one  boy  and  one  girl  would  be  better,"  suggested 
Rupert.  "My  boys  are  of  the  tender  age  when  they  sadly 
need  a  mother's  care.  Her  boy  would  be  rapidly  nearing 
an  age  when  he  needs  a  father's  guidance.  Her  sweet  young 

386 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

daughter  would  make  a  kind  elder  sister  and  merry  play- 
mate to  Robbie  and  Edgar.  It  seems  distinctly  a  waste 
to  have  two  households,  where  they  might  so  advantageously 
be  amalgamated  into  one.  Don't  you  agree  with  me?" 

"The  question  is,  rather,  does  she  agree  with  you,"  ob- 
served Faith,  demurely. 

"That's  the  mischief!  How  am  I  to  know  if  I  don't  ask, 
and  how  the  deuce  can  I  get  up  the  courage  to  ask?  Faith, 
when  I  think  of  the  assurance  with  which  I  courted  Amy, 
I  am  fairly  aghast!  How  did  I  ever  dare?  I  cannot  re- 
member that  I  had  any  of  the  flutterings  and  embarrass- 
ments that  make  a  fool  of  me  now.  Yet  it  ought  to  be  the 
other  way.  I  have  been  a  married  man,  she  has  been  a 
married  woman,  we  are  experienced,  settled,  sensible  per- 
sons in  our  prime.  You  would  fancy  it  all  a  very  matter-of- 
fact  affair,  yet  my  knees  fairly  knock  together  when  I  think 
of  offering  myself  to  that  gracious,  kindly,  charming 
woman!" 

"I  can  understand  it  perfectly,"  said  Faith,  sympathet- 
ically, slipping  her  hand  affectionately  into  her  brother's. 
"You  were  over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  Amy,  you  had  the 
hope  and  the  daring  of  youth  and  inexperience.  Love  would 
be  everything!  Now  you  have  had  a  long,  hard  experience 
of  life,  and  you  realize  the  gravity  of  its  problems.  You 
reason  too  much  about  it.  You  do  not  trust  enough  to 
affection  and  congenial  companionship  to  smooth  over 
things.  You  know  that  your  burdens  will  be  halved,  if 
she  shares  them;  but  you  feel  as  if  you  were  asking  her  to 
double  hers.  Yet  perhaps  she,  too,  is  feeling  as  if  hers  would 
be  halved  if  you  share  them.  Have  you  not  given  her  reason 
to  suspect  your  attachment?" 

"I  have  given  her  all  sorts  of  reasons  but  the  right  one!  I 
have  explained  to  her,  with  the  utmost  care  and  elaboration 
of  detail,  the  why  and  the  wherefore  of  my  long  corre- 
spondence with  her  and  of  my  visits  to  St.  Petersburg " 

387 


FAITH  BRANDON 

"  St.  Petersburg !  Aha ! "  thought  Faith,  and  a  light  broke 
in  upon  her. 

"It  was  always  on  your  account  that  I  corresponded  with 
her,  so  that  I  might  keep  in  touch  with  Solntsoff  and  let  you 
have  news  of  him.  I  went  on  to  St.  Petersburg  when  he  was 
released  from  the  fortress,  wholly  and  entirely,  as  I  assured 
her,  to  consult  with  him  about  you.  When  she  took  her 
uncle  to  Nauheim  in  the  following  autumn  for  the  baths, 
I  —  er  —  was  recommended  the  treatment  by  my  physician. 
Lord!  but  I  loathed  those  baths,  yet  I  took  one  religiously 
every  day,  and  entertained  her  with  a  description  of  my 
symptoms." 

"You  went  to  the  right  spot,"  cried  Faith,  gayly.  "Those 
baths  are  prescribed  for  irregular  action  of  the  heart! " 

"Then  at  Easter  I  took  the  boys  to  St.  Petersburg  with 
me.  I  thought  she  would  fall  in  love  with  them  and  want 
to  be  a  mother  to  them.  But  as  I  had  told  her  that  I  brought 
them  to  see  the  sights,  I  had  to  drag  those  innocent  babes 
to  churches  and  museums  till  they  were  worn  out,  bored  to 
death,  and  cross  as  two  sticks.  They  acted  like  little  devils 
incarnate  every  time  she  saw  them." 

"And  she  probably  took  pity  on  their  helpless  father,  and 
her  maternal  heart  yearned  over  the  maltreated  young 
ones,"  laughed  Faith.  "I  dare  say  it  was  the  best  thing 
that  could  have  happened." 

"You  give  me  a  ray  of  hope,"  sighed  Rupert.  "She 
probably  suspects  by  this  time  what  a  consummate  ass  I 
am,  and  she  may  come  to  our  rescue  from  sheer  pity.  I  am 
going  to  write  her  a  note  and  confess  all.  You  shall  give 
it  to  her  and  tell  her  we  are  not  as  bad  as  we  seem." 

And  Faith  promised  to  be  his  earnest  advocate. 

She  had  little  time  to  recover  from  her  fatigue  in  the  rush 
of  the  next  three  days.  There  was  so  much  to  be  done,  so 
many  people  to  see,  she  had  the  bewildered  feeling  of  one 
walking  through  a  dream.  But  at  last  the  long  ceremony 

388 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

was  over.  The  guests  were  beginning  to  disperse  after 
the  joyous  wedding  breakfast;  and  Faith,  who  had  started 
every  time  she  heard  herself  addressed  as  "Princess"  and 
"  Siyatelstvo,"  slipped  away  from  the  friendly  circle  to  the 
morning-room  upstairs  to  have  a  last  word  with  her  aunt 
and  brother  before  changing  into  her  traveling  dress.  Miss 
Louisa  kissed  her  with  murmured  words  of  blessing  and 
prayer.  Then  she  handed  her  a  small  box. 

"After  his  return  to  Russia,  Count  von  Dovsprung  sent 
this  to  me  to  be  given  you  in  case  of  your  marriage," 
she  explained. 

Faith  turned  very  white  and  felt  a  little  faint.  She  was 
somewhat  nervous  from  the  excitement,  emotion  and  fatigue 
of  the  last  few  days  and  felt  that  she  was  on  the  verge  of 
tears.  She  sat  down  quickly,  then  held  out  her  hand  to 
receive  the  box.  Rupert  discreetly  turned  his  back,  but 
her  aunt  was  bending  over  her  and  she  could  see  Lyova's 
eyes  fastened  on  her.  She  felt  a  little  hysterical  and  would 
have  given  a  good  deal  to  be  alone  for  a  few  moments. 

She  opened  the  box  mechanically.  Within  lay  an  ex- 
quisite Burmese  ruby  of  choicest  color  and  unusual  size,  set 
in  a  brooch  of  diamonds  and  pearls,  on  the  inner  side  of 
which  was  engraved  simply,  "To  Fides." 

With  it  was  a  little  note,  a  few  words  in  French: 

"  To  her  '  whose  price  is  above  rubies,  in  whom  the  heart 
of  her  husband  may  safely  trust,'  to  her  who  has  twice 
saved  me  from  death,  —  from  the  death  of  the  soul  and  that 
of  the  body,  I  send  this  token  of  my  undying  love  and 
veneration.  May  she  pray  in  life  and  death  for  her  heart- 
broken 

"  YOURI." 

With  one  little  cry  of  pity  and  pain,  Faith  thrust  the 
jewel  and  the  note  into  her  husband's  hands.  Then  the 
tears  came  in  a  wild  flood,  and  she  sobbed  uncontrollably. 

389 


FAITH  BRANDON 

They  laid  her  down  on  the  sofa,  removed  her  heavy  head- 
dress and  bridal  crown  and  brought  her  salts  and  a  stim- 
ulant. When  her  sobs  began  to  subside  her  husband  asked 
to  be  left  alone  with  her,  and  the  others  withdrew  from  the 
room. 

Then,  for  the  first  time,  he  read  the  note,  and  he  sat  by 
her  side  as  if  turned  to  stone. 

"I  do  not  understand,"  he  said  at  length,  hoarsely. 
"Faith,  what  does  it  mean?  When  did  Dovsprung  meet 
your  aunt?  When  did  you  save  his  life?  What  are  you 
keeping  from  me?  " 

Faith  sat  up  and,  controlling  her  sobs,  began  to  dry  her 
eyes. 

"Keeping  from  you!"  she  exclaimed,  a  little  angrily  at 
first,  but  she  recollected  that  he  might  well  be  pained  and 
distressed  by  her  unfortunate  tears,  so  she  softened  her 
voice. 

"His  letter  to  you  explained  everything,"  she  said. 

"His  letter?  I  never  received  any  letter  from  Youri 
Andre  vich." 

"Never  received  it?"  she  echoed.  She  was  still  weak 
and  trembling,  and  there  was  something  pitiful  and  appealing 
in  her  expression  and  her  efforts  at  self-control.  "He 
wrote  from  his  sick-bed  at  the  hospital,  to  tell  you  —  how 
it  was  with  me.  He  thought  you  ought  to  know." 

The  man  by  her  side  looked  amazed  and  stupefied. 

"What  hospital?  Where?  Faith,  try  to  realize  that  I 
know  absolutely  nothing  of  what  you  refer  to!  What  was 
it  he  thought  he  should  tell  me?  " 

She  was  so  exhausted  it  was  hard  for  her  to  find  words. 

"He  wanted  you  to  know  —  how  much  it  was  costing 
me  —  what  I  was  suffering  —  for  my  fidelity  to  you.  He 
behaved  so  nobly.  He  would  not  have  come  at  all  —  to 
see  me  —  had  he  not  thought  himself  dying.  Oh,  Lyova," 
with  a  fresh  burst  of  sobs,  "I  ought  not  to  cry  —  on  my 

390 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

wedding-day,  but  I  am  so  tired,  so  tired!  If  I  could  have 
half  an  hour  —  to  rest  quietly  —  I  should  be  all  right  again; 
but  I  —  I  hardly  know  what  I  am  saying.  Aunt  Louisa 
will  tell  you  —  about  the  hospital  and  Aunt  Adele  —  and 
everything.  I  am  —  so  —  tired! " 

He  laid  her  back  among  the  cushions  and  gazing  down 
at  her  forgot  his  own  distress  at  the  sight  of  hers.  He 
knelt  by  her  side. 

"Rest  quietly,  poor  child!"  he  murmured.  "I  will  leave 
you  to  yourself  for  a  while.  Vyera,  it  was  God's  will  that 
I  should  not  get  that  letter,  that  I  should  not  understand. 
I  know  that  whatever  happened  you  tried  to  be  true  to  me, 
that  you  always  will  be  true  to  me.  It  is  not  your  fault 
if  you  could  not  master  your  heart.  Rest  quietly,  my  — 
my  darling!" 

His  voice  broke  a  little.  He  placed  the  note  and  the  ruby 
brooch  by  her  side,  and  left  her  to  have  her  cry  out  by  herself. 
He  had  never  before  known  her  so  excitable,  so  uncon- 
trolled, —  his  reasonable,  sensible  little  Vyera.  Nor  did 
he  recognize  himself.  His  life  was  apparently  ruined  on  his 
wedding-day,  and  yet  he  seemed  to  take  it  calmly  and  be 
able  to  face  the  future.  He  was  amazed  at  his  own  calmness. 
He  had  fancied  that  jealousy  would  make  a  brute  of  him, 
but  he  felt  only  a  dumb,  stupid  pain.  It  seemed  to  him  as 
if  he  could  never  again  feel  anything  so  strongly  as  on  that 
day  when  he  had  fainted  on  seeing  her  go  to  Dovsprung's 
side.  That  had  been  his  death-blow,  though  only  a  pre- 
monition of  what  was  now  a  reality. 

He  wondered  vaguely  whether  a  marriage  could  be  an- 
nulled when  the  vows  had  been  made  in  ignorance  of  con- 
ditions which,  if  known,  would  have  prevented  its  taking 
place.  Certainly  he  did  not  wish  Vyera  to  marry  him  if 
her  poor  little  heart  was  yearning  for  another  man.  Had 
he  only  known,  he  would  have  released  her  from  her  en- 
gagement at  the  very  steps  of  the  altar. 


FAITH  BRANDON 

He  sent  a  message  by  a  servant  that  he  would  like  to  see 
Father  Uspenski,  in  his  room,  as  soon  as  possible.  The 
train  would  leave  in  two  hours,  and  he  must  start  on  his 
wedding-trip  alone.  He  laughed  grimly.  His  wife,  who 
was  perhaps  not  his  wife,  was  evidently  too  ill  to  travel. 
He  must  return  alone! 

But  first  he  would  see  Miss  Ludlow.  Sympathetically 
and  gently  she  told  him  what  she  knew  of  Dovsprung's 
escape  and  wanderings,  of  his  coming  to  the  Boston  hospital, 
his  being  recalled  from  the  dead,  as  it  were,  by  the  sound  of 
Faith's  voice,  her  long  nursing  of  him  with  Brandon's  aid, 
his  coming  to  the  Ludlow  home,  his  extraordinary  resem- 
blance to  his  uncle,  and  Miss  Adele's  happy  death  in  his  arms. 
Of  the  letter  she  of  course  knew  nothing,  but  she  could  tell 
Solntsoff  truly  that  Faith  had  never  swerved  in  her  loyalty 
to  him 

"  Count  von  Dovsprung  did  not  ask  for  her  love,  but  it  was 
plain  he  was  at  her  feet,  and  she  had  only  to  hold  out  her 
hand,"  said  Miss  Ludlow.  "But  she  seemed  to  feel  herself 
irrevocably  yours.  I  never  saw  an  instant's  hesitation  on 
her  part.  You  must  not  be  alarmed  by  her  momentary  agita- 
tion, dear  prince.  Think  what  the  child  has  been  through 
in  the  way  of  trial,  grief  and  suspense  for  months  past,  and 
the  fatigues  and  excitements  of  the  few  last  weeks  and  days ! 
She  is  tired  and  overwrought,  but  she  must  never  be  sepa- 
rated from  you  again.  Her  life  is  now  bound  up  in  yours." 
And  she  withdrew  to  give  directions  about  Faith's  luggage. 

He  listened  stonily.  He  knew  Faith,  knew  that  her  sense 
of  loyalty  to  him  would  be  so  great  that  not  even  to 
her  dear  aunt  would  she  confide  her  anguish.  But  he, —  he 
had  heard  her  broken  words,  he  had  seen  her  struggle,  her 
passionate  grief.  "He  wrote  to  tell  you  how  it  was  with  me, 
what  it  was  costing  me  to  be  faithful." 

And  they  supposed  that  he  had  received  the  letter.  He 
flushed  hotly  as  he  recalled  that  he  had  not  as  much  as  asked 

392 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

Faith  if  she  wished  to  renew  her  engagement,  but  had  taken 
it  for  granted  that  she  would  marry  him.  What  a  blundering 
fellow  he  had  been!  Had  not  her  father's  letter  expressly 
said,  "whether  they  renewed  their  engagement  or  not,"  he 
hoped  they  would  decide  for  the  individual  interest  and 
happiness  of  each.  For  the  first  time  it  struck  him  that 
Mr.  Brandon's  letter  hinted  of  a  doubt.  Blundering  and 
blind  he  had  been!  What  must  they  have  thought  of  him? 
Instead  of  offering  her  freedom,  or  pleading  to  be  allowed 
to  try  and  win  back  her  love,  he  had  rushed  to  claim  her  and 
had  whirled  her  off  her  feet  into  this  hasty  marriage.  She, 
of  course,  would  make  no  complaint.  Her  sense  of  honor 
was  so  high  that  she  would  keep  her  faith  with  him  at  any 
price.  She  would  not  dream  of  asking  for  her  freedom. 

Here  something  within  him  rebelled  fiercely.  She  was 
his  Vyera,  his  Little  Comrade,  who  would  deal  truly  and 
frankly  with  him  under  all  circumstances,  for  so  it  had  been 
agreed  between  them!  They  were  to  "talk  it  over,"  as 
dear  friends;  she  was  to  feel  free  to  love  another  if  she  wished; 
but  they  would  always  speak  the  truth  to  each  other,  having 
confidence  in  the  other's  courage  and  good  sense.  They 
would  hurt  each  other  rather  than  marry  for  pity,  or  for 
duty's  sake,  or  for  any  other  reason  than  constant  love! 

Lyeff  Petrovich  sank  on  his  knees.  "God  willed  it,"  he 
said,  with  a  dry  sob.  "I  was  blind  and  without  understand- 
ing; yet,  perhaps,  was  my  blindness  not  blindness,  but  a  truly 
justifiable  and  justified  faith. 

"For  she  had  made  her  confession,"  he  thought.  "She 
had  made  a  special  confession  of  her  whole  life,  on  the  eve 
of  her  marriage,  in  preparation  for  the  sacrament  of  matri- 
mony. Had  there  been  a  doubt  in  her  mind,  had  there  been 
a  yearning  toward  any  other  man  than  her  future  husband 
she  would  have  told  all,  and  her  confessor  would  have  pre- 
vented her  from  sacrificing  the  happiness  of  three  lives  to  a 
mistaken  sense  of  duty.  Father  Uspenski  is  an  experienced 

393 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and  a  prudent  man.  He  understands  the  moral  dangers 
there  would  be  in  such  a  union,  and  he  understands  me. 
He  knows  my  jealous,  ugly  temper  and  that  I  should  be  un- 
happy with  the  sweetest  saint  on  earth,  had  I  not  confidence 
that  I  possessed  her  supreme  affection.  He  would  have 
directed  her  wisely  in  the  interests  of  both. 

"And  she  came  from  her  confession  last  evening  looking 
so  happy,  so  free  from  doubts  and  fears,  so  radiant  with 
purity  and  peace!  She  came  to  me  at  the  altar  this  morning 
with  the  blessing  of  God  and  the  sanction  of  His  priest.  I 
will  trust  her  against  the  evidence  of  her  own  distracted 
words.  I  will  —  have  —  faith ! ' ' 

He  rose  slowly  from  his  knees  and  looked  at  his  watch. 
It  was  now  an  hour  since  he  had  left  her.  He  would  go  to 
her  and  see  if  she  were  rested,  to  comfort  her  as  best  he  could. 
As  he  turned  toward  the  door  it  opened,  and  Faith  stood 
there  in  her  traveling  dress,  black,  since  she  had  nothing 
else  to  wear,  but  relieved  by  a  touch  of  color  in  hat  and 
blouse.  She  came  straight  to  him  in  all  her  noble  young 
grace  of  bearing,  her  eyes  shining  with  tenderness  ami 
truth  and  confidence.  She  raised  her  arms  and  clasped  her 
hands  about  his  neck. 

"Lyova,"  she  whispered.  "You  must  forget  my  silly 
tears.  I  am  rested  now  and  I  came  to  find  you.  I  have 
not  yet  called  you  —  'my  husband!'"  and  she  lifted  her 
face  to  his. 

He  looked    earnestly  down   into    the    sweet  face,   now 
so   composed,  and   into  the  honest   eyes.     Her   presence 
restored  his  calm.     She  was  herself  again,  his  Vye"ra,  his 
Little  Comrade,  who  would  under  all  circumstances  deal 
truthfully  and  frankly  with  her  Big  Friend,  who  would  not 
make  vows  with  a  lie  in  her  heart.      He  clasped  his  arms 
about  her  and  pressed  his  lips  to  hers. 
"My  wife!"  he  murmured. 
"And  do  you  feel  fit  for  the  long  journey?"  he  asked 

394 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

anxiously,  after  a  moment.  "You  are  so  tired,  and  heaven 
only  knows  what  lies  before  us  at  the  other  end." 

"I  certainly  shall  not  let  you  go  without  me,"  she  said, 
with  decision.  "  You  must  take  me  in  sickness  or  in  health. 
You  cannot  help  yourself  now!  And,  Lyova,"  caressingly, 
"there  is  just  one  thing  I  do  not  feel  fit  for.  I  am  ready 
to  face  fatigue  or  sickness  or  bombs  or  revolution  or  prison 
or  exile  with  you,  but  I  do  not  feel  fit  to  face  another  sepa- 
ration." 

At  this  instant  came  a  knock  at  the  door.  "Father 
Uspenski  to  see  your  Grace,"  announced  the  English  foot- 
man. 

The  prince  started.  He  grew  a  little  red  as  he  recalled 
that  he  had  sent  for  the  chaplain  to  consult  with  him  about 
the  possibility  of  annulling  their  marriage! 

"Bdlyushka,  Little  Father,"  he  said  smiling,  to  the  priest, 
"the  difficulty  I  thought  to  consult  you  about  has  been 
cleared  up.  There  is  nothing  now  but  to  crave  your  blessing 
and  ask  you  to  pray  with  us  for  a  safe  journey  and  a  happy 
home-coming."  He  took  Faith's  hand  and  the  three  knelt 
together  to  say  the  itinerary  prayers. 

When  the  prayers  were  over  and  the  cnaplain  had  again 
blessed  them,  there  was  a  scant  half  hour  for  their  prepara- 
tions. The  prince  was  once  more  confident  and  happy,  but 
there  was  much  haste,  hurried  adieux  and  a  few  little  annoy- 
ances before  they  were  safely  started  for  their  journey. 
It  was  a  short  run  to  Dover.  Then  came  a  stormy  five  hours' 
passage  to  Ostend,  until  they  were  finally  settled  on  the  train 
de  luxe  which  they  were  not  to  leave  again  for  forty-five 
hours.  How  good-naturedly  Faith  took  all  the  little  mis- 
adventures! What  a  cheery,  sensible  traveling  companion 
she  made! 

"You  have  married  a  matter-of-fact  man  and  must 
plunge  with  a  vengeance  into  a  matter-of-fact  life,"  he  said, 
laughingly,  as  he  did  his  best  to  dispose  her  comfortably  in 

395 


FAITH  BRANDON 

the  compartment,  settling  her  with  pillows  and  loading  her 
down  with  illustrated  papers,  a  couple  of  novels,  flowers, 
a  basket  of  fruit  and  a  box  of  bonbons. 

She  smiled  tenderly  up  into  his  face.  "After  all  we  have 
been  through  it  seems  wonderful  enough  that  our  marriage 
is  a  matter-of-fact  at  all!  Do  you  know,  Lyova,"  she  added, 
a  little  wistfully,  "I  was  not  sure  till  the  day  we  sailed 
that  it  could  really  be!  I  had  a  doubt,  a  scruple,  that  I 
feared  might  be  an  obstacle " 

Her  husband  grew  white  and  gripped  hold  of  the  door- 
frame, staring  dumbly  at  her.  What  scruple,  what  obstacle 
to  their  marriage  could  she  mean,  but  one  of  the  heart? 

The  entrance  of  the  guard  put  an  end  to  her  confidences, 
and  when  the  man  had  left,  the  question  that  Solntsoff 
would  have  asked  froze  upon  his  lips.  The  interruption  had 
apparently  driven  the  matter  from  Faith's  mind,  and  she 
lay  back  contentedly  on  the  pillows. 

Slowly  he  gathered  up  his  notebook  and  an  armful  of 
newspapers,  and  left  her  to  rest.  He  had  taken  a  berth  in 
the  adjoining  section,  so  she  had  the  large,  roomy  compart- 
ment quietly  to  herself  through  the  journey  except  for  the 
few  hours  that  he  spent  with  her  off  and  on  during  the 
day,  when  she  saw  that  he  seemed  absent-minded  and  was 
much  absorbed  with  newspapers,  despatches  and  his  own 
writing. 

From  time  to  time,  however,  he  would  come  to  her  side 
and  talk  to  her,  or  read  aloud  to  her,  when  the  noise  of  the 
train  permitted.  She  noticed  that  he  did  not  speak  about 
themselves.  Nor  did  she  resume  her  interrupted  confi- 
dence. She  had  already  spoiled  their  wedding-day  with 
her  unfortunate  tears;  she  would  not  further  spoil  it  by 
distressing  him  with  her  religious  doubts.  His  heart  was 
full  of  the  troubles  of  his  beloved  fatherland,  so  their 
talk  was  mostly  of  Russia,  her  past  sorrows,  her  threaten- 
ing future,  the  strikes  that  had  broken  out  on  every  hand, 

396 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

the  incipient  revolution,  the  great  changes  that  would  be 
wrought  by  the  new  constitution. 

At  the  Polish  frontier  they  found  the  country  already 
in  the  throes  of  the  great  railroad  and  telegraph  strike. 
There  was  a  delay  of  some  hours,  as  the  only  train  running 
through  to  St.  Petersburg  was  the  heavily  guarded  military 
train  to  which  theirs  would  be  coupled.  There  were  Rus- 
sian soldiers  everywhere,  good-natured,  yellow-haired,  broad- 
backed  fellows,  and  courteous,  kindly  officers.  Faith  felt 
very  safe.  It  seemed  to  be  a  curious  kind  of  revolution 
that  was  on  foot.  With  the  exception  of  a  few  clever,  fiery 
leaders,  assisted  by  a  handful  from  the  criminal  element 
of  the  country,  the  combatants  seemed  so  devoid  of  ill-will, 
the  peasants  so  cheery  and  submissive,  the  soldiery  so  genial 
and  friendly  to  the  prisoners,  so  tender  of  the  wounded. 
Faith  could  not  believe  that  the  movement  would  amount 
to  anything,  if  once  a  few  of  the  leaders  were  caught. 

When  darkness  came  on  the  second  evening,  a  dull,  red 
glow  kindled  on  the  northeastern  horizon.  As  the  train 
sped  toward  it  the  conflagration  grew  in  extent,  and  fierce 
flames  could  be  distinctly  discerned.  The  air  became  dense 
with  smoke  and  the  smell  of  burning  wood.  The  train 
slowed  dowrn,  then  halted  for  a  few  moments.  Faith  and 
her  husband  stepped  out  on  the  platform  to  watch  the  scene. 
It  was  the  great  factory  L  — ,  with  its  outlying  workingmen's 
barracks,  suffering  destruction  at  incendiary  hands.  There 
were  soldiers  on  the  scene,  and  all  rioting  had  apparently 
been  quelled. 

They  took  their  seats  again  and  the  train  sped  on. 
The  crimson  pageant  now  lay  to  the  south  and  would  soon 
fade  on  the  westerly  horizon. 

A  polite,  cheery  subaltern  officer  came  to  the  door  of  their 
compartment  and  saluted  Faith. 

"Vashe  Siydtelstvo!  Pazvdltel  Your  Splendor,  permit 
me  to  assure  you  from  the  commanding  officer  that  there  is 

397 


FAITH  BRANDON 

no  cause  for  anxiety.  We  have  a  strong  guard,  and  a  pilot 
engine  is  running  ahead  of  the  train.  Have  no  anxiety!" 

Solntsoff  returned  the  salutation  genially.  "  We  are  greatly 
obliged  for  the  reassurance,  golubchik*  Kindly  give  our 
greetings  to  the  officer  in  charge." 

"Yes,  yes,"  assented  the  sergeant.  "These  are  bad  days 
to  bring  the  bride  home,  Bdtyushka,  but  the  sun  is  behind 
the  clouds.  They  will  pass." 

Solntsoff  looked  up  in  surprise.  How  should  they  know 
him  or  know  that  he  was  bringing  his  bride  home? 

"What  is  the  family  name  of  the  commanding  officer?" 
he  asked. 

"Pritwitz,  Lieutenant  Baron  Andrei  Nikitich,  permit  me." 

"I  have  not  the  honor  of  knowing  him,  but  I  am  much 
indebted  for  his  message  of  reassurance  to  Princess  Soln- 
tsova." 

"Ah,  yes,  yes!  Now  then,  the  whole  district  is  under 
martial  law,  and  the  military  governor  of  the  province  has 
been  all  day  at  the  scene  of  the  fire.  Everything  is  quiet 
again,  but  the  fire  must  burn  itself  out.  His  High  Excellency 
is  now  with  our  train." 

"Ah!  I  should  like  to  pay  my  respects  to  the  governor. 
Will  you  announce  me?  Which  coach  is  his  High  Excel- 
lency traveling  in?" 

"Coach!  No,  no!"  cried  the  sergeant,  disdainfully. 
"Oh,  no!  He  is  not  in  any  coach.  Where  should  he  be? 
The  Little  Father  is  with  his  children  where  the  danger  is  — 
riding  on  the  pilot-engine!" 

"To  be  sure,  we  are  in  Russia! "  smiled  the  prince.  "And 
the  Little  Father?  What  is  his  High  Excellency's  name?  " 

"Von  Dovsprung-Zaozerski,  General  Youri  Andrevich,  to 
command!"  answered  the  sergeant;  and  saluting,  he  retired. 

It  was  very  still  in  the  little  compartment.     Solntsoff 

*Golubchik,  i.  e.  pigeon;  Bdtyushka,  little  father;  familiar  term  used 
between  an  older  and  a  younger  person,  or  a  superior  and  an  inferior. 

398 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

glanced  toward  Faith.  She  had  turned  her  face  away  and 
he  fancied  he  heard  a  faint  sigh.  He  felt  again  that  dull, 
benumbing  pain  that  had  crept  over  him  on  his  wedding- 
day.  He  shivered,  and  taking  up  his  papers  tried  to  forget 
himself  in  work. 

A  delegation  of  Alyonkins,  Shumaroffs  and  Kliazemskis 
met  them  at  the  station  and  escorted  them  joyously  to  the 
old  prince's  palace.  After  they  had  embraced  Natalia 
Petrovna  and  knelt  to  receive  their  uncle's  blessing  and 
embrace,  there  was  a  merry  little  supper.  All  was  genial 
and  no  allusions  made  to  the  late  war  or  to  the  threatened 
Reign  of  Terror;  yet  Faith  missed  two  well-known  faces, 
those  of  the  young  officers,  Nikita  Ryapoloff  and  Seriozha 
Militsyn,  while  Solntsoff  knew  that  Alyonkin's  country 
home  had  just  been  burned  to  the  ground  by  the  Terrorists, 
and  that  the  Kliazemskis  had  had  a  fortune  swept  away  by 
the  wanton  destruction  of  mining  property  in  the  Oural 
within  the  last  three  days. 

Faith  had  found  a  chance  to  slip  Rupert's  note  into  Coun- 
tess Chernyatina's  hand,  and  had  seen  the  color  flame  into 
that  dignified  matron's  face.  She  actually  looked  as  con- 
fused as  a  young  girl,  and  Faith  thought  that  there  was  a 
special  tenderness  in  the  kiss  she  gave  her  at  parting  that 
spoke  most  encouragingly  for  Rupert's  prospects. 

At  last  the  newly  married  couple  were  free  to  go  to  their 
own  little  apartment,  where  Avdotia  Ilinichna  met  them  on 
the  threshold  with  the  symbolic  bread  and  salt,  and  Father 
Gavriil  stood  within,  waiting  to  bless  the  pair  in  the  new 
home  they  were  founding. 

The  door  had  hardly  closed  after  the  priest's  departure, 
when  the  telephone  rang  noisily. 

"It  is  a  call  from  the  editorial  rooms,"  said  Solntsoff. 
"I  am  sorry,  Vyera,  but  I  shall  have  to  leave  you  for  a  while. 
There  is  an  important  consultation  at  the  office,  discussing 
the  position  the  paper  shall  take  in  face  of  the  strikes  and 

399 


FAITH  BRANDON 

the  latest  Imperial  Oukaz.  Do  not  sit  up  for  me.  You 
need  rest,  poor  child!" 

"I  give  you  to  Russia,"  she  said  bravely;  "I  must  learn 
to  be  an  editor's  wife,  which  seems  to  be  almost  as  bad  as 
being  a  soldier's  wife." 

He  kissed  her  lightly  on  the  brow,  and  left  her  with  a 
murmured  "God  bless  you!  Sleep  well!" 

Faith  dawdled  over  her  unpacking  and  undressing.  She 
wandered  from  room  to  room  to  see  how  her  husband  had 
furnished  their  modest  apartment.  There  was  an  ante- 
room out  of  which  opened  Solntsoff 's  study.  Next  came  the 
big,  generous  living-room,  which  must  do  them  for  both 
sitting  and  dining-room,  then  two  small,  adjoining  bedrooms. 
These  were  all  on  the  street  and  would  have  full  sunshine. 
The  bathroom  and  linen  room,  the  kitchenette  and  maid's 
room  opened  on  the  large  court.  It  was  all  simply  but 
comfortably  furnished.  There  were  flowers  everywhere,  and 
the  lights  burned  before  the  holy  Ikons.  Faith  knelt  and 
said  a  fervent  prayer. 

He  had  told  her  not  to  sit  up,  but  she  could  not  make  up 
her  mind  to  go  to  bed.  The  air  seemed  full  of  danger. 
She  felt  that  she  must  be  alert  and  ready  for  anything 
that  might  happen.  She  threw  a  loose  robe  about  her  and 
lay  down  on  the  divan  in  the  living-room.  But  tired  as  she 
was,  sleep  did  not  come  at  once. 

She  had  a  vague  sense  of  disappointment.  Their  wedding- 
trip  had  indeed  been  matter-of-fact.  The  semi-publicity 
of  a  train  was  not  conducive  to  love-making,  yet  it  seemed  as 
if  Lyova  had  been  unnecessarily  self-contained.  Even  on  a 
train  a  smile,  a  pressure  of  the  hand,  a  tender  glance,  —  surely 
such  little  tokens  were  permissible!  But  he  had  not  even 
looked  especially  happy!  In  the  privacy  of  their  own  home 
he  could  at  least  have  taken  her  in  his  arms  to  bid  her  good- 
bye, but  he  had  separated  from  her  with  merely  a  light  kiss 
on  the  brow.  She  had  held  out  her  hands,  expecting  his 

400 


THE  DELAYED  LETTER 

embrace,  and  he  had  made  no  more  response  than  a  wooden 
image.     It  was  indeed  a  matter-of-fact  honeymoon! 
Then  sleep  came  and  closed  the  wistful  eyes. 

It  was  nearly  morning  when  the  prince  returned  and  softly 
let  himself  into  the  apartment.  From  the  ante-room, 
through  the  half-open  door,  he  caught  sight  of  the  sleeping 
figure  on  the  divan  in  the  living-room.  He  looked  a  moment, 
then  he  shivered  slightly,  and  passing  into  the  study,  began 
to  pace  the  room  restlessly. 

"I  try  to  have  faith,  but  I  am  eating  my  heart  out  wit_ 
fear,"  he  sighed.  "One  moment  I  reason  myself  into  con- 
fidence, and  the  next  I  dare  not  approach  her  confidently. 
If  I  should  try  to  caress  her  and  she  should  shrink  from  me 
ever  so  little,  I  think  I  should  go  mad.  She  was  free,  poor 
child,  and  he  loved  her.  He  was  no  longer  the  old  Youri, 
but  a  new,  a  repentant,  heroic,  suffering  Youri,  appealing 
to  all  that  was  tenderest  and  most  womanly  in  her  nature. 
Why  should  she  have  felt  bound  to  me?  Ah,  Lyova, 
Lyova,  shame  on  you!  Any  other  woman  would  have  loved 
Youri;  'but  she  was  faithful  to  you,  her  first  love,  because 
she  was  not  like  other  women,  because  she  was  herself,  was 
'Faith'!  O,  Vyera,  golden  one!  It  is  possible  you  still 
are  a  bit  in  love  with  your  big  Polar  Bear,  as  in  those  happy 
days  of  childish  affection  and  devotion?  Does  your  woman's 
heart  yearn  a  little  bit  for  me  on  this  night  of  all  nights,  when 
we  begin  our  married  life  in  our  little  home?" 

He  moved  toward  the  door,  then  he  stood  still,  his  face 
darkened  and  a  groan  escaped  from  him. 

' '  If  I  only  knew !  God  help  me !  God  pity  my  unbelief ! ' ' 
He  sank  wearily  into  the  chair  by  his  desk.  As  he  did  so 
his  eyes  fell  upon  the  pile  of  letters,  his  personal  mail,  which 
had  accumulated  during  the  ten  days  of  his  absence. 

One  letter  stood  out  prominently  from  among  the  rest,  it 
was  so  thick,  so  covered  with  post  marks.  After  many 

401 


FAITH  BRANDON 

wanderings  it  had  been  claimed  and  forwarded  from  the 
Dead  Letter  office  at  Washington. 

He  began  to  tremble  from  head  to  foot.  "His  letter!" 
he  exclaimed.  "Now  I  shall  know  all." 

So  soundly  did  Faith  sleep  that  the  opening  of  the  door 
from  the  adjoining  room  did  not  disturb  her.  But  some- 
thing more  subtle  finally  aroused  her,  the  call  of  heart  to 
heart,  and  opening  her  eyes  she  saw  her  husband  standing 
at  the  foot  of  the  divan,  the  rosy  light  from  the  Ikona  lamp 
full  upon  his  face,  which  shone  with  such  a  look  of  joy 
and  triumph  as  she  had  never  seen  on  human  countenance, 
though  his  eyes  and  cheeks  were  wet  with  tears. 

"Vyera,  Little  Comrade,  his  letter  has  come,"  he  tried  to 
tell  her,  but  he  could  hardly  utter  words  for  emotion.  "  My 
own  Vyera!" 

She  held  out  her  arms  to  him  and  he  sprang  to  her  side. 
Falling  on  his  knees  he  flung  his  arms  passionately  about 
her  and  buried  his  head  on  her  breast,  sobbing  like  a  child. 

"He  said  it  would  make  you  triumph,"  she  whispered. 

"Oh,  Faith,  Faith,  Faith! "  he  cried.  "It  has  made  me  so 
happy,  so  blessedly,  triumphantly  happy!  God  is  good  to 
us,  my  golden  one,  we  love  each  other  so!" 


402 


CHAPTER  XXVIH 

THE   WORTH   OF    A    HEART 

"  Humbly  before  Thy  Mercy  Seat  I  throw 
My  poor  soul,  sick  to  death  of  deadly  sin. 
Father,  I  know  Thou  canst  and  hope  Thou  wilt 
Release  me  of  this  burden.    Pity  me, 
For  Thy  Son's  sake  let  not  my  soul  be  spilt. 
Lest  from  Thy  fear  I  stray  abroad  in  sin, 
Restore  me  to  Thy  Fold  and  lock  me  inl" 

— Anonymous  MS.  of  Sixteenth  Century. 

WITHOUT,  the  spirit  of  revolution  stalked  through  the  city. 
Force  was  opposed  to  hatred,  order  to  disorder.  Men's 
hearts  were  full  of  fear  and  unrest.  Constitutional  govern- 
ment had  been  offered  as  a  gift,  but  the  misguided  ones  would 
wrest  it  with  torture  from  the  willing  hands,  and  turn  it  to 
their  own  perverted  ends.  Malice  led  the  strife,  urging  along 
the  blind  hordes  of  Ignorance  in  his  train. 

There  were  hurried  councils.  In  one  department  a  mil- 
itary governor  was  making  his  report  to  the  Minister.  The 
tears  streamed  down  his  face  as  he  made  it. 

"The  poor  children!"  he  said.  "They  mean  no  harm. 
It  is  then-  ignorance.  They  go  as  they  are  led." 

"I  believe  you,  Youri  Andrevich,"  said  his  High  Excel- 
lency. "They  know  not  what  they  do!  It  is  those  brains 
of  devils  incarnate  that  have  planned  it  all,  and  they  elude 
us  and  we  must  punish  the  poor  children  for  following  them. 
So,  this  is  your  report  of  the  work  of  the  revolutionaries  in 

the province.  In  the  last  eight  days  five  mills  burned, 

three  overseers  assassinated,  eleven  private  estates  sacked, 
twenty-one  buildings  blown  up,  four  trains  derailed,  four 
firemen  and  engineers  shot,  seventeen  soldiers  wounded, 

403 


FAITH  BRANDON 

four  privates  and  two  officers  killed.  On  the  other  side 
three  hundred  strikers  arrested,  two  inciters  tried  by  court- 
martial  and  shot,  forty  men  wounded  in  assault." 

"The  mills  and  railroad  are  now  under  sufficient  protec- 
tion," said  the  governor.  "The  fires  are  out,  the  revolt 
scattered.  The  difficulty  is  in  policing  the  more  distant 
properties.  The  men  we  have  arrested  all  tell  the  same 
story.  They  had  no  complaint  against  the  mills  or  the  land- 
lords; they  were  simply  acting  in  obedience  to  orders.  Many 
of  the  poor  peasants  wept  as  they  told  of  the  outrages  they 
had  been  directed  to  commit." 

The  Minister  sighed.  "The  firmest  policy  will  be  the 
kindest  in  the  end,"he  said.  "They  must  not  become  brutal- 
ized by  the  taste  of  blood.  They  need  a  master.  If  it  is 
not  the  State  they  are  made  to  obey,  it  will  be  some  blatant 
demagogue.  But  when  order  is  restored  then  we  may  be 
indulgent  once  more.  Solntsoff's  leader  in  this  evening's 
paper  is  the  most  sensible  word  spoken  in  this  hour  of  trouble, 
but  no  one  will  listen  to  it.  Every  one  is  down  on  him.  He 
has  incurred  the  wrath  of  the  reactionaries  because  he  does 
not  wish  the  constitution  revoked,  and  yet  he  is  hated  by 
the  liberals  and  hounded  by  the  anarchists  on  account  of 
his  ringing  plea  for  strong  measures  in  enforcing  order.  He 
is  a  marked  man,  I  fear!" 

General  von  Dovsprung  left  the  Ministry  with  a  heavy 
heart.  What  a  land  for  that  poor  young  wife  to  come  to! 
If  the  Emperor's  advisers  would  but  keep  their  heads,  all 
would  yet  be  well.  Holy  Russia  would  not  perish  in  a  night. 
But  these  were  dark  days  to  live  through.  Yet  he  had 
faith  that  the  storm  would  be  easily  weathered.  The 
nation  was  sound  at  heart,  the  Gosudar  would  not  readily 
give  up  his  long-planned  constitution,  the  loyal  troops  would 
soon  restore  order.  A  strong  hand  was  all  that  was  needed. 
There  are  always  discontents,  whatever  may  be  the  form  of 
government,  but  to  yield  to  them  is  a  fatal  weakness.  Be 

404 


THE  WORTH  OF  A  HEART 

it  monarchy  or  republic,  autocracy  or  democracy,  it  is  the 
strong  government  that  is  respected. 

He  felt  that  he  would  like  to  warn  Solntsoff  of  his  personal 
danger,  but  there  would  be  little  use.  Lyova  was  a  prudent 
man,  who  would  not  incur  unnecessary  risk  at  any  time, 
but  in  the  path  of  duty  he  was  fearless.  He  would  heed  no 
warning,  nor  would  he  arm  himself.  There  was  nothing  one 
could  do  but  pray  heaven  to  guard  Him,  for  his  young 
wife's  sake. 

Dovsprung  had  returned  to  St.  Petersburg  from  his  long 
wanderings,  to  find  himself  a  hero,  the  idol  of  the  hour. 

The  sally  of  the  two  devoted  warships  at  C  had  seized 

upon  the  popular  imagination.  It  had  taken  the  place  in 
Russian  hearts  that  the  charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  held  in 
British  tradition.  Its  survivors  were  honored  and  caressed, 
and  none  more  so  than  himself,  for  he  had  gone  not  in 
obedience,  but  voluntarily  into  "  the  gates  of  death  and  the 
jaws  of  hell."  He  had  upheld  the  ancient  traditions  of  Rus- 
sian warfare  at  a  time  when  too  many  were  yielding  to  the 
weak  huinanitarianism,  the  effeminate  prudence  which  has 
naught  in  common  with  the  things  of  war,  but  is  preached 
from  soft  armchairs  and  luxurious  firesides.  He  had  held 
his  life  in  light  esteem  where  the  glory  of  Russia  was  at 
stake,  and  Russia  was  eager  to  immortalize  him.  Honors 
came  thick  and  fast.  He  was  raised  to  the  rank  of  general, 
he  was  received  in  personal  audience  by  the  Emperor  and 
the  two  Empresses,  he  had  held  the  little  Naslednik  in  his 
arms,  orders  and  medals  were  bestowed  upon  him,  he  was 
cheered  as  he  passed  through  the  streets,  men  feasted  him 
and  women  courted  him.  That  he  had  returned  to  them 
emaciated,  hollow-eyed  and  grizzled  only  lent,  in  feminine 
eyes,  an  additional  interest  and  beauty  to  his  romantic  per- 
sonality. 

And  through  this  siege  of  adulation  he  passed  indifferent, 
unmoved.  Russia's  wounds,  Russia's  needs  were  ever  before 

405 


FAITH  BRANDON 

his  eyes,  while  in  his  heart  gnawed  the  torments  of  an  un- 
requited love.  When  his  country's  internal  troubles  broke 
out,  he  asked  for  and  obtained  the  difficult  and  dangerous 
post  of  military  governor  in  a  province  where  revolt  had 
broken  out  in  its  fiercest  forms.  And  here  Fate  had  ar- 
ranged that  he  should  safeguard  the  home-coming  of  Lyeff 
Petrovich  and  his  bride! 

Youri  Andrevich  turned  his  steps  toward  the  church  of 
St.  Catherine,  the  parish  church  of  the  Catholic  Poles.  He 
felt  that  he  was  not  worthy  to  pray  for  others,  he,  with  his 
weak  faith,  his  doubtful  hope,  his  cold  charity.  He  could 
only  pray  for  himself,  he  could  only  repent  and  beat  his 
breast  and  say,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me,  a  sinner! "  And  the 
merciful  God  accepted  this  prayer  and  had  given  him  grace 
to  sin  no  more.  But  the  only  way  he  knew  to  pray  for 
others  was  to  offer  his  life  for  them. 

He  entered  the  church  and  knelt  in  the  shadow  of  the  aisle 
before  the  chapel  of  the  Sacrament.  Drawing  forth  from 
under  his  collar  Faith's  golden  chain,  he  kissed  it  passion- 
ately, then,  signing  himself  with  the  cross,  he  looked  up- 
ward. Over  the  altar  was  the  picture  of  the  Saviour,  the 
thorn-crowned  Christ,  His  pierced  Heart  outwardly  rep- 
resented as  surrounded  by  flames,  burning  with  Love  for 
the  children  of  men.  Underneath  the  picture  were  inscribed 
the  words,  "My  son,  give  Me  thy  heart!" 

"My  heart!"  repeated  Dovsprung,  and  in  his  memory  re- 
sounded the  echo  of  Faith's  pleading  words  to  him,  "Heaven 
wants  your  heart,  fling  it  to  the  heaven  that  is  leading 
you!"  "That  poor  thing  that  calls  itself  my  heart!"  he 
thought  bitterly.  "How  can  it  be  worth  the  giving  or  the 
taking?" 

The  years  seemed  to  unroll  before  him.  His  boyish  heart 
had  loved  and  clung  to  his  mother,  his  little  sister,  had  loved 
admiringly  his  noble  and  upright  father.  They  had  died 
in  his  early  youth  and  his  heart  had  grown  forgetful  of 

406 


THE  WORTH  OF  A  HEART 

holy  memories  of  family  and  home.  It  had  hardened  itself 
and  forgotten  the  principles  and  precepts  instilled  by  con- 
scientious parents.  The  ambitions,  the  successes,  the  pride 
of  life,  the  maxims,  the  pleasures  of  this  world  had  taken  root 
in  his  heart,  which  had  corrupted  itself  playing  at  sinful  love 
with  the  weak,  vain,  worldlings  of  high  life,  until  that  fateful 
day  when  he  had  fallen  so  low  as  to  insult  the  pure,  loyal 
spirit  of  the  young  maiden  whom  Fate  had  doomed  him 
ever  since  to  worship  in  passionate,  hopeless  adoration. 

The  anguish  of  remorse,  the  humiliation  of  self-contempt 
and  the  sufferings  of  despairing  love  had  cleansed  his  heart 
of  corruption,  and  it  beat  once  more  in  healthy  harmony 
with  the  laws  of  God  and  man.  But  he  felt  that  it  did  not 
beat  for  Heaven  alone!  It  was  for  her  sake  he  had  repented; 
to  live  as  she  would  have  him  live  he  had  amended  his  ways. 
Seeing  his  past  through  her  eyes  he  loathed  and  condemned 
it.  Viewing  life  from  her  standpoint  he  strove  to  live 
worthily.  If  he  now  worshipped  God  and  kept  His  com- 
mandments and  received  His  sacraments,  it  was  because  the 
faith  of  his  childhood  taught  him  that  it  was  through  the 
strength  of  the  supernatural  that  he  must  overcome  the 
weakness  of  the  natural,  and  so  climb  to  the  high  plane 
where  she,  his  earthly  love,  would  have  him  live.  But,  alas! 
it  was  still  for  her,  and  not  for  God,  that  his  unhappy 
heart  was  beating! 

Suddenly  he  raised  his  head  defiantly. 

"My  God,  why  have  You  denied  me  the  lawful,  holy  love 
that  I  craved,  that  would  sanctify  me  and  redeem  my  life? 
I  have  turned  from  evil  and  tried  to  do  good,  and  You  have 
taken  from  me  my  last  hope.  Why?  " 

But  even  as  he  spoke  he  knew  the  reply  as  well  as  if  it 
had  fallen  audibly  from  the  pictured  lips  of  Christ  above 
him. 

"I,  the  Lord,  thy  God,  am  a  jealous  God:  Thou  shall  have 
none  other  Love  before  Mel  Give  Me  thy  heart,  and  in  the 

407 


FAITH  BRANDON 

measure  thou  givest  shall  Love  be  given  thee;  full  measure, 
pressed  down  and  running  over,  shall  it  be  returned  into  thy 
bosom!" 

Youri  Andrevich  stretched  out  his  arms.  "My  God,  I 
give  Thee  my  life!  Take  it  from  me  when  Thou  wilt,  and 
in  what  way  Thou  wilt.  I  offer  it  to  Thee  that  he  may  live. 
I  ask  not  for  hope  or  for  reward,  Thy  will  be  done!  But 
take  my  life  for  his,  that  she  may  be  spared  from  shock  and 
suffering." 

Silent  and  deserted  by  all  but  himself  the  atmosphere  of 
the  church  grew  oppressive  to  the  kneeler.  It  was  as  if  the 
Christ  looked  unfavorably  upon  him,  and  cared  not  for  his 
offering. 

"My  God,  if  it  is  Thy  Will  that  I  live  and  suffer,  I  accept 
life  from  Thy  hands,  I  accept  suffering.  Forgive  me  if  I 
have  been  impatient  under  Thy  justice.  Thou  hast  been 
kinder  to  me  than  I  deserve.  I  give  my  life  to  Thy 
service." 

Deeper  and  deeper  grew  the  oppression  and  the 
silence. 

"What  is  it  that  Thou  wilt  have  of  me,  Thou  Christ?" 
cried  Youri  Andrevich,  desperately.  "Why  dost  Thou  plead 
so  with  me?  Lord,  I  will  follow  Thee  in  poverty,  I  will  sell 
all  my  goods  and  give  them  to  Thy  poor,  and  they  shall  pray 
for  my  sinful  soul!" 

The  lamp  burning  before  the  Sacred  Heart  nickered.  As 
the  church  grew  darker,  so  its  tiny  flame  lighted  up  ever  more 
distinctly  the  words,  "Give  Me  thy  heart/" 

"  Saviour! "  sobbed  the  kneeling  soldier.  "  I  have  been  too 
sensitive  of  my  earthly  honor.  I  have  done  scant  penance 
for  the  scandals  of  my  evil  life.  I  have  lived  too  luxuriously 
for  a  follower  of  the  Cross.  Dear  Lord,  I  will  give  my  body 
to  penance,  and  beg  Thee  to  accept  my  sufferings  that  these 
two  beloved  souls  may  be  led  to  the  Unity  of  the  Church 
Thou  hast  founded.  Send  me  pain  and  humiliation  and 

408 


THE  WORTH  OF  A  HEART 

dishonor  to  atone  for  my  faults,  but  do  not  let  them  be 
prejudiced  or  hindered  by  my  evil  example." 

Sharp  as  the  sword  that  cleaveth  soul  from  body,  distinct 
as  the  lightning  that  darteth  from  one  end  of  heaven  to  the 
other,  there  struck  into  his  restless,  dissatisfied  soul  the 
words: 

"  Though  thou  give  thy  goods  to  the  poor  and  thy  body  to  be 
burned,  if  thou  have  not  Love,  it  availeth  nothing! " 

Youri  Andrevich  quivered  from  head  to  foot.  His  hands 
went  up  to  his  throat  and  unclasped  from  about  his  neck  his 
greatest  earthly  treasure,  the  golden  chain,  the  last  link  that 
bound  him  to  a  human  love. 

Staggering  to  his  feet,  he  rose,  stepped  forward,  and  laid 
the  chain  upon  the  altar,  before  the  shrine  of  the  Lover  of 
Souls.  Then  he  sank  to  his  knees  and  stretched  his  hands 
to  heaven. 

"Oh,  my  God  and  my  All!"  he  cried.  "I  give  Thee 
my  heart!  Thee  only  will  I  love,  my  Heavenly  Treasure! 
Take  my  poor  heart!  Such  as  it  is,  it  loves  Thee,  Thee  alone 
and  above  all!  O  my  God,  I  thank  Thee  that  I  can  now  say 
it.  Thee  alone!  above  all  things!" 

And  in  full  measure,  pressed  down  and  running  over,  was 
Heavenly  Love  poured  into  his  bosom,  such  Love  as  the  mind 
of  man  cannot  conceive,  such  Love  as  the  heart  of  man  can 
hardly  know  and  live.  God's  saints  have  known  it,  virgin 
saints  whose  purity  sees  God  in  beatific  vision  even  on  earth, 
and  penitents  who  love  much  because  much  hath  been  for- 
given them,  and  that  heroic  host  of  chosen  Christian  souls 
who  have  gazed  upon  Him  Crucified,  and  for  His  sake  have 
left  all  that  they  had  and  followed  Him!  To  them  such 
vision  of  Love  is  given.  Even  in  this  mortal  life  they  have 
their  hour  of  Transfiguration.  Men  call  it  "Ecstasy!" 

Through  the  long  evening  hours  until  the  small  hours  of 
the  morning,  the  last  Count  of  Dovsprung-ZaozSrski  sat 

400 


FAITH  BRANDO 

with  his  lawyers  and  agents,  drawing  up  his  will,  and  devising 
a  plan  by  which  even  now,  during  his  lifetime,  his  landed 
estates  could  be  partitioned  among  his  tenantry  in  a  sort  of 
peasant  proprietorship,  and  his  personal  income  managed 
for  their  benefit.  The  castle  of  his  ancestors  and  its  treasures 
would  be  sold,  to  aid  in  instituting  technical  schools,  a  free 
hospital,  and  an  orphanage. 

"And  your  High  Excellency  reserves  nothing  for  your- 
self?" asked  the  man  of  business,  prudently. 

"Oh,  I  can  live  on  my  pay,  like  many  a  poor  devil  of  an 
officer  before  me,"  laughed  the  count,  as  joyously  as  if  he 
were  coming  into  a  fortune  instead  of  giving  one  away! 

His  High  Excellency,  General  von  Dovsprung,  left  the 
capital  the  next  day,  after  some  hours  of  consultation  with 
the  Ministry  of  War  and  the  Police,  and  returned  to  his  post 
in  the  Polish  province  where  his  energetic  measures  had  done 
so  much  to  restore  calm.  On  his  route  to  the  station  en- 
thusiastic crowds  cheered  him  as  he  passed,  and  a  group 
of  distinguished  friends  accompanied  him  to  the  train, 
where  his  carriage  was  laden  with  flowers  and  offerings 
from  fair  admirers  to  their  hero. 

Two  months  later  he  was  recalled  to  the  capital  and  his 
resignation  asked  for.  He  was  suspected  of  sympathizing 
with  the  Catholic  Poles;  it  was  known  that  he  had  consulted 
with  members  of  the  Polish  clergy  and  also  with  certain  local 
Hebrews  in  some  of  the  measures  he  had  taken.  Though 
he  had  been  eminently  successful  in  bringing  order  from 
chaos,  yet  it  was  feared  that  he  might  in  some  degree 
have  subordinated  Russian  Imperial  interests  to  those  of  a 
local  nature  in  so  doing. 

It  was  a  hard  blow  to  the  soldier  to  be  told  to  lay  down 
his  arms  on  the  eve  of  victory;  it  was  a  keen  hurt  to  the 
patriot  and  man  of  honor  to  be  suspected  of  treachery.  He 
had  found  the  conservative  Poles  loyal  to  the  Empire  and 

410 


THE  WORTH  OF  A  HEART 

eager  to  unite  with  it  in  suppressing  an arcny  and  terrorism, 
and  he  had  but  met  their  friendly  advances  and  encouraged 
them  to  unite  and  make  common  cause  with  the  Empire 
in  the  suppression  of  disorder.  But  these  were  dark  days, 
when  men's  minds  were  full  of  suspicions  and  fears,  when 
one's  foes  were  too  often  those  of  one's  own  household.  The 
gallant  soldier  bowed  his  head  and  submitted  to  discipline. 
After  some  weeks'  detention  in  the  fortress  of  the  Shlis- 
selburg,  he  was  tried  by  court-martial  and  found  guilty, 
with  extenuating  circumstances.  He  was  pardoned  by  the 
Emperor  and  set  at  liberty,  but  degraded  from  his  rank  in 
the  army. 

He  went  at  once  to  the  Ministry,  to  offer  his  services  to 
Russia  in  any  capacity,  however  humble,  in  which  he  would 
be  permitted  to  serve.  The  offer  was  politely  refused,  and 
the  Minister  hinted  delicately  that  Count  von  Dovsprung's 
health,  never  very  strong  since  his  exposure  in  the  war,  might 
be  benefited  by  a  residence  outside  of  the  Empire,  as  long 
as  its  internal  disorders  lasted. 

When  he  found  his  way  from  the  Minister's  bureau  to  the 
street,  Youri  Andrevich  hesitated.  Now  that  he  had  been 
relieved  of  his  command,  degraded  from  his  rank  in  the  army 
and  sentenced  to  indefinite  exile,  he  found  himself  homeless 
and  without  means  of  subsistence.  His  estates,  his  child- 
hood's home,  with  all  the  memories  and  relics  of  his  parents, 
had  recently  been  burned  and  pillaged  by  the  Terrorists; 
and,  even  had  it  been  spared,  it  was  no  longer  his,  since  he 
had  already  put  it  in  the  hands  of  agents  for  sale  and  for 
the  distribution  of  the  adjoining  lands  among  the  peasantry, 
who  had  thus  unwittingly  destroyed  their  own  fortune  in 
wrecking  his.  Homeless,  penniless,  dishonored,  he  knew 
not  if  he  had  a  friend  to  turn  to  among  all  who  had  so 
recently  courted  and  feasted  him.  When  one  is  in  disgrace 
and  trouble,  a  friend  is  hard  to  distinguish.  Many  avoided 
him,  or,  at  best,  greeted  him  coldly;  others  passed  him  by 

411 


FAITH  BRANDON 

without  recognition.  None  had  been  permitted  to  see  him 
during  his  detention,  and  he  was  not  informed  that  any 
had  tried  to  do  so,  save  the  man  he  once  had  tried  to 
wrong. 

"I  dare  not  call  myself  his  friend, "  thought  Youri  An- 
drevich,  "but  I  have  appointed  him  as  administrator  of  the 
lands  that  were  mine,  until  such  time  as  order  is  restored 
and  the  distribution  can  be  safely  made.  Perhaps  I  should 
let  him  know  that  I  ask  this  favor  of  him. "  He  turned  his 
steps  toward  Solntsoff's  office. 

Once  more  he  hesitated.  Before  the  office  door  stood  a 
sleigh,  and  in  the  sleigh  sat  a  lady  wrapped  to  the  eyes  in 
furs.  But  the  eyes!  He  could  see  those,  although  they  were 
looking  above  him  to  the  office  windows  and  saw  him  not. 
It  was  Fides,  and  she  was  waiting  for  Lyeff  Petrovich.  He 
stepped  back,  and  slunk  into  the  shadow  of  a  doorway. 
Evidently  they  were  going  somewhere  together,  for  the 
office  did  not  close  for  another  hour. 

Faith  was  beginning  to  grow  impatient.  She  was  well 
wrapped  up  from  the  cold,  and  was  usually  very  easy-going 
with  Lyova's  irregular  hours,  for  she  knew  that  in  the 
varied  interests  of  his  life  there  were  many  calls  upon  his 
time;  she  was  in  sympathy  with  his  work,  and  adapted  her- 
self with  cheery  willingness  to  unexpected  delays.  But  this 
special  afternoon  they  really  must  be  prompt,  for  Youri 
Andrevich  was  to  be  discharged  from  court  at  this  hour,  and 
they  must  be  there  to  meet  him  and  offer  him  the  modest 
shelter  of  their  little  home.  He  had  no  relatives,  no  posi- 
tion, and  had  met  with  heavy  financial  losses  in  the  de- 
struction of  his  estates.  They  must  not  fail  him  in  his  hour 
of  need! 

There  were  few  people  passing.  A  dark  figure  slinking  in 
a  near  doorway  made  her  a  little  nervous,  for  though  the 
worst  of  the  Terror  was  over,  yet  the  city  was  still  under 
martial  law,  feeling  ran  high,  and  Solntsoff's  policy  had 

412 


THE  WORTH  OF  A  HEART 

made  him  many  enemies,  especially  since  his  scathing  articles 
upon  the  recent  student  riots. 

A  fine-looking,  bearded  man  in  professor's  dress,  ac- 
companied by  a  thin,  fair-haired  kursistka*  of  eighteen  or 
twenty,  were  coming  slowly  toward  the  sleigh.  As  they 
passed  the  dark  figure,  they,  too,  seemed  to  feel  a  little 
nervous,  for  they  drew  back,  hesitated,  then  hurried  forward 
a  few  steps  till  they  reached  the  sleigh,  where  they  lingered 
as  if  seeking  its  friendly  protection. 

Faith  was  filled  with  an  undefinable  fear.  Lyeff  Petrovich 
was  just  coming  toward  the  entrance  from  his  office.  At 
the  same  time  the  dark  figure  started  forward,  and,  dashing 
past  the  man  and  the  girl,  ran  straight  toward  Solntsoff. 

With  a  scream  of  terror  Faith  sprang  from  the  sleigh, 
but  it  was  all  over  before  the  warning  cry  was  out  of  her 
mouth.  The  girl  had  pulled  forth  a  revolver  and  aimed  it 
directly  at  the  prince's  advancing  form.  In  the  same 
instant  that  the  shot  rang  out,  the  dark  figure  had  flung 
itself  at  Solntsoff  and  the  two  men  fell  heavily  together  to 
the  floor. 

The  girl  threw  down  the  revolver  and  fled  unmolested, 
for  the  employees  who  rushed  out  at  the  sound  were  too 
startled  to  think  of  anything  but  helping  the  wounded  man. 
They  pulled  the  dark  stranger  roughly  away  and  flung  him 
out  into  the  street;  then  turned  to  the  prostrate  form  of 
the  prince. 

How  Faith  reached  there,  she  never  knew;  but  she  found 
herself  kneeling  by  her  husband's  side  as  he  lay  on  the  stone 
pavement,  white  and  still,  his  clothing  drenched  with 
blood! 

She  did  not  faint,  nor  scream,  nor  wring  her  hands.  She 
seemed  turned  to  marble.  "It  was  too  beautiful  to  last," 
she  murmured.  "  God's  will  be  done!  I  am  thankful  I  was 
his  happy  wife  for  four  blessed  months!" 

*  Girl  student  of  the  University. 

413 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

ON    THE    MOUNTAINS    OF    FAITH 

"All  that  I  took  from  thee  I  did  but  take 

Not  for  thy  harms, 
But  just  that  thou  might'st  seek  it  in  My  Arms. 

All  that  thy  child's  mistake 
Fancies  is  lost,  I  have  stored  for  thee  at  Home  — 
Rise!     Clasp  My  Hand,  and  come!" 

—  Thompson,  "Hound  of  Heaven." 

THE  employees  and  members  of  the  staff  carried  the  still, 
white  form  into  the  office  and  laid  him  on  the  sofa.  They 
cut  and  stripped  off  his  coat  and  shirt,  while  Faith  chafed 
the  cold  hands. 

He  opened  his  eyes,  and  made  an  effort  to  sit  up. 

"I  am  not  hurt,  Little  Comrade,"  he  muttered,  bewil- 
dered. 

A  neighboring  surgeon  had  been  summoned,  and  now 
came  on  the  scene.  He  leaned  over  the  prostrate  figure, 
feeling  of  his  heart. 

Solnstoff  made  a  second  and  more  effectual  effort,  and 
sat  upright. 

"I  tell  you,  I  am  untouched,"  he  insisted.  "I  was  only 
a  little  stunned  by  hitting  my  head  when  falling,"  and  he 
struggled  to  his  feet. 

"There  is  no  blood  on  the  undershirt,"  said  the  surgeon, 
after  a  hasty  examination.  "It  is  all  on  the  outside 
clothing." 

"It  was  Dovsprung's!"  cried  the  prince.  "It  is  he  that 
was  wounded.  I  recognized  him  just  as  he  threw  himself 
on  me  to  protect  me  with  his  body.  Go  to  him!" 

The  physician  gathered  up  his  instruments  and  ran  toward 
414 


ON  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF  FAITH 

the  street.  Solntsoff,  hurriedly  changing  his  coat,  started 
after  him,  then  turned  back  to  his  wife. 

"  Vyera,  this  has  been  a  great  shock  for  you.  Thank  God 
that  you  see  me  unhurt,  and  think  now  only  of  yourself. 
You  must  drive  right  home  and  rest  while  I  attend  to  Youri 
Andrevich  and  give  him  every  care." 

She  flung  her  arms  passionately  about  him.  "I  have  you 
still!"  she  cried,  "God  is  good  to  me!" 

"I  owe  my  life,  our  happiness  to  Youri,  I  cannot  rest  till 
I  find  him.  Let  us  pray  that  his  wound  may  be  a  mere 
scratch." 

Faith's  lips  quivered.  "We  had  meant  to  be  so  kind  to 
him,  and  I  did  not  even  recognize  him,"  she  said,  regretfully. 

One  of  the  employees,  who  had  followed  the  surgeon,  now 
returned  with  the  report  that  Dovsprung  had  disappeared. 
The  horses  attached  to  Solntsoff's  sleigh  had  taken  fright 
at  the  shot  and  had  run  several  blocks  before  the  coachman 
had  them  under  control.  In  the  meanwhile  a  few  excited 
passersby,  believing  the  wounded  man  to  be  the  assassin, 
had  begun  to  haul  him  about  roughly  before  the  police 
arrived  on  the  spot.  After  questioning  the  returning  coach- 
man, the  police,  convinced  of  the  wounded  man's  innocence, 
placed  him  in  a  cab,  directing  the  driver  to  carry  him  to 
the  nearest  pharmacy  for  aid.  Then  all  had  started  in 
search  of  the  fugitive  girl  and  her  companion.  Apparently 
the  cabman  had  not  obeyed  instructions,  for  none  of  the 
neighboring  pharmacies  had  seen  him.  Probably  he  had 
taken  his  passenger  to  some  hospital  but,  though  several 
had  been  telephoned  to,  none  reported  receiving  such  a 
patient. 

Solntsoff  drove  Faith  home,  and  with  many  warnings 
to  keep  quiet  and  cheerful,  left  her  to  go  in  search  of  his 
preserver.  The  search  was  destined  to  last  many  hours. 

The  cabman  who  had  been  called  to  carry  Youri  An- 
drevich to  the  nearby  pharmacy  was  a  timid  man.  He  had 


FAITH  BRANDON 

seen  the  first  rough  attack  made  on  his  passenger  by  the 
angry  citizens,  and  he  feared  that  when  he  should  be  out 
of  sight  of  the  police  a  second  attack  would  be  made.  No 
sooner  had  he  turned  the  corner  than  he  quietly  slipped  off 
the  box,  rolled  himself  a  little  in  the  snow  and  dirt,  and 
returned  home  with  a  story  of  having  been  set  upon  by 
the  rabble. 

The  horse,  an  intelligent  and  a  hungry  animal,  immedi- 
ately turned  and  trotted  to  the  stable,  a  few  blocks  away, 
from  which  he  had  been  hired.  The  stable-boys  let  him 
in,  and  opening  the  cab  door,  discovered  the  bleeding  oc- 
cupant. 

The  grooms  sprang  forward  and  half  drew,  half  led  the 
fainting  figure  through  the  stable  to  a  shed  in  the  rear,  and 
laid  him  down  on  the  straw  in  an  empty  stall.  They  cut 
away  his  clothing  and  stanched  the  bleeding  with  such  poor 
means  as  they  had  at  hand.  A  stable-boy  was  sent  for  the 
nearest  surgeon,  and  at  the  wounded  man's  request  another 
went  in  search  of  a  Catholic  priest.  The  latter  arrived 
first,  a  Polish  chaplain  from  the  church  of  St.  Catherine. 
He  heard  the  injured  man's  faltering  confession  and  admin- 
istered Extreme  Unction.  His  experienced  eye  saw  that  the 
Last  Sacrament  did  not  have  the  reviving  effect  which  it 
sometimes  produces  on  the  physical  forces,  and  that  the 
man's  hours  were  numbered. 

"Have  you  any  message?  Is  there  any  one  who  should 
be  notified?"  he  asked. 

"There  is  no  one;  I  am  alone  in  the  world,"  whispered 
the  sufferer. 

"Not  alone!  The  God  of  Hosts  is  with  you,"  said  the 
priest.  "He  was  born  for  you  in  a  stable,  and  here,  in  a 
stable,  He  now  comes  to  visit  His  child  in  the  Holy  Viat- 
icum!" 

The  dying  man's  eyes  lighted  up  with  joy  unspeakable. 
"To  me!  Even  to  me!  Emmanuel,  my  Redeemer!"  he 

416 


ON  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF  FAITH 

murmured.  "Ah,  Good  Shepherd  of  my  soul,  Thou  hast 
followed  me  even  to  the  end!" 

A  moment  after  the  Sacred  Host  had  been  communicated 
to  him  the  surgeon  arrived,  examined  the  patient  and  sug- 
gested having  him  removed  to  the  hospital. 

"Let  me  die  in  peace  where  they  have  laid  me,"  pleaded 
Dovsprung.  "It  is  Bethlehem!  It  is  holy  ground!"  His 
voice  came  slowly  and  with  effort,  as  if  the  spirit  were 
already  far  away  and  he  could  with  difficulty  recall  it. 

The  doctor  stepped  aside  with  the  chaplain.  "There 
is  really  no  use  in  moving  him.  We  can  do  nothing.  He  is 
marked  with  death,  but  it  was  my  duty  to  suggest  it  in  case 
he  desired  to  take  the  chance.  He  is  far  beyond  medical 
aid.  An  assassination,  no  doubt.  Have  the  police  been 
notified?" 

"He  wishes  nothing  done,  no  one  prosecuted,"  replied 
the  chaplain.  He  returned  to  the  dying  man,  and,  kneeling 
by  his  side,  began  to  repeat  the  prayers  of  St.  Ignatius. 

"O,  good  Jesus,  hear  me!  Within  Thy  wounds  hide  me! 
Permit  me  not  to  be  separated  from  Thee!  At  the  hour  of 
my  death  call  me,  and  bid  me  come  to  Thee!" 

"At  the  hour  of  my  death  call  me!"  repeated  Youri 
Andrevich  with  gasping  breath,  his  fast  fading  eyes  light- 
ing with  sudden  rapture.  "Call  me,  even  me,  Jesus,  my 
God!  And  bid  me,  Youri,  Thy  sinful  child,  to  come  to  Thee! 
to  —  come  —  to  —  Thee! " 

It  was  near  midnight  when  Solntsoff  returned  to  his  wife, 
pale  and  agitated. 

"  Vyera,  we  have  found  him,"  he  said,  taking  her  in  his 
arms. 

"And  is  he  going  to  die?"  she  asked,  low  and  tremb- 
lingly. 

"He  is  giving  his  life  for  me,  or  rather,  for  your  happi- 
ness, Vy6ra!  'Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  to  give  his 


FAITH  BRANDON 

life ' "  he  broke  down  and  leaned  his  head  against  her 

shoulder. 

"Is  there  no  hope?"  she  whispered. 

"No,  none.  The  bullet  penetrated  the  intestines.  It  is 
only  his  great  vitality  that  is  keeping  him  alive  so  long. 
Everything  has  been  done  that  is  humanly  possible,  dear 
heart!  Do  not  cry  so,  Vyera!  I  know  he  would  choose 
just  such  a  death.  If  you  could  but  see  his  face!  It  is 
absolutely  joyful!" 

She  clung  closely  to  her  husband,  "Oh,  Lyova,  Lyova! 
He  is  dying  for  us,  and  there  is  nothing  we  can  do!" 

He  took  her  face  between  his  hands  and  looked  deep  into 
the  grave,  true  eyes.  Then  he  kissed  her  brow  and  said 
tenderly : 

"Go  to  him,  Vyera,  my  golden  one,  as  his  ministering 
angel,  to  pray  with  him,  to  sustain  his  faith,  to  accompany 
him  to  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death.  God  willed  it 
that  you  should  be  the  unconscious  instrument  of  his  con- 
version, perhaps  He  wills  that  you  should  complete  the 
work  until  this  wandering  son  is  safe  in  the  Divine 
Arms." 

"It  is  not  I  that  will  sustain  him,  it  is  he  that  will  sustain 
my  faith,"  she  declared.  "I  have  seen  his  repentance,  his 
spiritual  struggle,  and  now  his  holy  end  will  teach  me  the 
last,  greatest  lesson." 

"We  both  have  much  to  learn,"  said  her  husband  gravely. 
"I  have  much  of  prejudice,  of  stubborn,  national  pride  to 
overcome.  I  asked  him  what  I  could  do  for  him.  I  begged 
to  give  him  some  token  of  my  gratitude,  and  he  said  there 
was  only  one  thing  —  that  I  would  try  to  examine  with  un- 
prejudiced mind  the  question  of  re-union  with  Rome.  He 
little  knows  what  he  asks  of  me!  I  have  often  felt  the  force 
of  the  argument  for  Unity,  but,  oh,  Vyera,  all  my  most  sa- 
cred feelings  of  loyalty  and  devotion  are  wrapped  up  in  our 
Orthodox  Russian  Church!  I  feel  that  I  should  cease  to  be  a 

418 


ON  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF  FAITH 

Russian,  that  I  should  be  a  traitor  to  turn  to  another  alle- 
giance!" 

"But  it  is  only  a  return  to  the  oldest  allegiance  of  all," 
she  urged  gently,  "to  the  unity  of  the  early  ages  —  all  else 
is  the  same.  Oh,  Lyova,  we  must  become  as  little  children ! 
It  is  the  only  way  to  heaven!" 

"He  understood  my  struggle,"  said  Solntsoff,  "and  he 
laid  his  hand  on  my  head  and  said  that  even  if  I  could  never 
come  to  see  it  as  he  saw  it,  I  must  not  stand  in  your  light. 
That  much  I  could  promise,  Vyera.  When  you  first  told 
me  of  the  step  you  wished  to  take,  it  was  bitter  to  me. 
Hitherto  my  hand  has  led  you.  My  Little  Comrade,  I 
have  been  your  happy  teacher  in  so  many  blessed  lessons, 
love,  religion,  marriage,  the  hope  of  maternity  —  and  now 
—  oh,  God  forbid  that  our  ways  should  ever  separate!  God 
keep  us  ever  one  heart  and  one  mind  in  the  Faith  of 
Christ!" 

His  whole  frame  shook  with  emotion.  Faith  caressed  him 
tenderly.  No  doubt  many  painful  hours  lay  before  them 
both.  She  must  not  try  to  force  his  convictions,  but  if  once 
convinced  she  knew  that  he  would  hesitate  at  no  sacrifice. 

"Tell  me  more  of  Youri,"  she  said,  gently,  as  she  wrapped 
herself  in  furs  for  the  winter  walk. 

"  Vyera,  he  had  already,  even  in  life  and  health,  arranged 
to  divide  his  estate  among  his  peasantry,  and  intended  to 
labor  among  the  poor  and  outcast  in  some  penitential 
brotherhood." 

Faith's  eyes  lighted  up.  "  Ah,  yes,"  she  sighed,  "  that  was 
beautiful.  But  this  is  more  beautiful  still,  that  he  should 
give  his  life  for  the  friend  he  had  once  meant  to  injure!" 

"He  has  given  his  life  for  us.  We  must  give  him  every 
moment  that  is  left  on  earth,  and  our  prayers  as  long  as 
we  both  shall  live.  Come  to  him  now,  my  Vy6ra,  and  may 
God  inspire  and  sustain  you!" 

But  she  hesitated  and  drew  back.     "Ly6va,"  she  whis- 

419 


FAITH  BRANDON 

pered,  "at  the  hour  of  death  he  should  be  face  to  race  with 
his  God,  no  earthly  memory  should  come  between.  I  fear 
I  might  only  disturb  his  peace  —  only  draw  his  mind  away 
from  the  things  of  heaven!" 

Lyeff  Petrovich  looked  down  into  the  troubled  face,  so 
spiritual,  so  exquisite  in  its  sensitive  conscientiousness. 

"Vyera,  I  believe  that  as  his  mortal  life  nears  its  end  he 
thinks  no  more  of  earthly  love!  He  gave  me  a  message  for 
you  —  I  do  not  know  its  full  significance,  but  he  said  you 
would  understand.  I  was  to  tell  you  that  he  was  no  longer 
wearing  your  chain,  that  he  had  made  an  offering  of  it  to 
the  Sacred  Heart." 

Faith  slid  to  her  knees.  For  a  moment  she  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands,  then  she  sprang  up,  her  eyes  radiant 
with  reverent  joy,  and,  holding  out  her  hand  to  her 
husband,  she  cried  almost  gayly,  "Let  us  go  to  him  at 
once!  My  last  scruple  is  so  blessedly,  so  happily  re- 
moved!" 

Together  they  walked  through  the  darkness  and  cold  of 
the  wintry  streets.  At  the  corners  of  the  principal  thorough- 
fares great  fires  were  burning,  where  cabmen,  guards  and 
belated  pedestrians  gathered  to  warm  their  chilled  extremi- 
ties. From  time  to  time  the  lamp  before  some  sacred  shrine 
cast  flickering  colors  across  the  whiteness  of  the  snow-em- 
bedded roads. 

"The  girl  who  shot  at  me  has  been  captured,"  Solntsoff 
told  his  young  wife.  "She  is  one  of  the  students'  corps, 
but  she  declares  that  it  was  not  her  intention  to  shoot  me, 
that  she  meant  the  bullet  for  Youri  Andrevich,  who  had 
betrayed  and  deserted  her." 

"Oh,  that  he  should  be  accused  of  tnat!"  exclaimed 
Faith,  indignantly.  "  He  was  never  that  type  of  man,  even 
in  his  worst  days.  It  seems  as  if  he  had  had  obloquy  enough. 
But,  Lyova,  you  and  I  can  disprove  that.  We  both  saw 
her  aim  directly  at  you!" 

420 


ON  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF  FAITH 

Solntsoff  shook  his  head  sadly.  "He  does  not  wish  to 
be  vindicated.  He  will  not  deny  her  story." 

"But  he  must,  he  should!  It  is  due  to  his  own 
manhood  and  to  the  honor  of  the  poor,  misguided 
girl." 

"Of  course  he  does  not  admit  it,  he  simply  makes  no 
charges  at  all  and  has  asked  us  to  avoid  giving  our  testi- 
mony. I  had  not  the  heart  to  go  against  his  wishes.  I 
promised  I  would  let  it  rest  there." 

"I  suppose  he  has  some  noble  motive  for  silence?" 

"It  is  partly  because  he  thinks  the  poor  girl  will  escape 
punishment,  if  sympathy  is  with  her.  Then  I  believe  he  has 
another  motive,  a  supernatural  one,  that  we  can  only  bow 
our  heads  before,"  added  Solntsoff.  "When  I  was  plead- 
ing with  him  for  his  honor,  his  fading  eyes  looked  up  at  me 
so  humbly,  so  sadly,  and  he  whispered,  'Christ  my  Lord 
died  as  a  malefactor;  shall  I  be  more  careful  of  my  honor 
than  the  Holy  One  of  Israel?'  Oh,  Vyera!  how  true  it  is 
that  '  they  love  much  to  whom  much  has  been  forgiven !' 
What  do  I  know  of  love?  What  do  I  know  of  humility,  of 
sacrifice,  I,  with  all  my  boasted  virtue,  in  comparison  to 
Youri  Andrevich,  the  penitent?  I  am  not  worthy  to  loosen 
the  latchet  of  his  shoes!" 

Faith  pressed  his  hand  in  sympathy.  "It  is  different, 
but  it  is,  none  the  less,  Love.  'If  you  love  Me  you  will  keep 
My  commandments  !'  "  she  quoted  softly. 

Hand  in  hand  they  entered  the  confines  of  the  stable. 
Near  the  entrance  the  grooms  were  busily  curry-combing 
the  tired  horses  and  cleaning  the  bespattered  sledges,  sing- 
ing, laughing  and  joking  at  their  work.  Some  had  thrown 
themselves  wearily  on  the  foor,  face  downward,  and  were 
sleeping  heavily  as  only  a  Slav  can  sleep. 

Solntsoff  took  off  his  cap  and  bowed  courteously  to  the 
men  as  he  entered.  They  returned  his  salute  with  a  cheery 
greeting,  and,  seeing  a  lady  with  him,  stopped  their  laughter 

421 


FAITH  BRANDON 

and  jokes  till  the  two  had  passed  through  to  the  rear  of  the 
stable,  beyond  the  reach  of  their  voices. 

"We  can  die  but  once,"  they  said,  with  easy  fatalism, 
"we  must  take  the  death  that  God  sends.  'Eternal  Mem- 
ory*! '"  and  bowing  deeply,  they  crossed  themselves  thrice, 
then  resumed  their  work  and  their  song. 

Stooping  their  heads,  husband  and  wife  entered  the  narrow 
door  of  the  cattle-shed.  There,  on  a  heap  of  straw,  covered 
by  his  long  cloak,  they  could  discern  by  the  flickering  light 
of  the  lanterns  the  form  of  Youri  Andrevich,  his  face  gray 
with  the  shadows  of  approaching  death,  his  lustreless  eyes 
half-closed,  the  breath  coming  in  short,  painful  gasps.  By 
his  side  knelt  the  priest,  holding  the  crucifix  before  the  dim, 
veiled  eyes,  and  softly  intoning  the  prayers  of  the  Latin 
rite  for  the  departing  soul.  The  dying  man  had  sunk  more 
rapidly  than  Solntsoff  had  expected.  The  majesty  of  the 
coming  change  had  already  stamped  itself  upon  the  pale 
brow.  Overcome  with  grief,  he  who  owed  his  life  to 
this  death,  prostrated  himself  at  the  foot  of  the  lowly 
couch  and  embraced  the  knees  of  the. almost  inanimate 
form. 

Tremblingly  Faith  knelt  by  Dovsprung's  head 

"Go  forth,  Christian  soul!  from  this  world,"  chanted  the 
priest,  "in  the  name  of  God  the  Father  Almighty, 
Who  created  thee;  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  the 
Son  of  the  living  God,  Who  suffered  for  thee;  in  the 
name  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  Who  sanctified  thee.  Dear 
Brother,  may  the  resplendent  multitude  of  the  angels 
meet  thee,  may  the  glorious  company  of  the  white- 
robed  marytrs  and  saints  encompass  thee,  may  Jesus  Christ, 
the  true  Shepherd,  appear  to  thee  with  mild  and  cheerful 
countenance.  May  He  Who  was  crucified  for  thee  deliver 
thee  from  torment.  May  He  Who  died  for  thee  deliver 
thee  from  eternal  death.  May  He  absolve  thee  from  all  thy 

*  "  Vyichnaya  Pdmiai,"  the  Requiem  Aeternam  of  the  Russians. 

422 


ON  THE  MOUNTAINS  OF  FAITH 

sins  and  place  thee  among  His  flock.  Mayest  thou  see  thy 
Redeemer  face  to  face,  and,  standing  always  in  His  presence, 
behold  with  happy  eyes  the  most  clear  Truth,  and,  among 
the  companies  of  the  blessed,  mayest  thou  enjoy  the  sweet- 
ness of  the  contemplation  of  thy  God  forever!" 

Youri  Andrevich  opened  his  eyes  once  more. 

"Vyeruiu,  gospodi,  i  ispovyeduiu,"*  he  said,  clearly  and 
joyfully.  "  I  believe  in  God,  in  His  One  Holy  Church,  in  the 
Life  Everlasting!  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  repentant  soul!" 
His  voice  sank  again,  but  he  made  one  more  effort.  It 
seemed  as  if  his  spirit  were  already  at  a  distance,  and  only 
his  strong  will  summoned  it  back  to  communicate  once 
again  with  the  loved  ones  of  earth. 

"Fides!  Lyova!  Dear,  faithful  friends!  This  poor 
life  is  very  little  to  give  up!  The  other  life  is  so  near  — 
it  is  so  blest!  Mother  of  God  —  at  the  hour  of  death  — 
my  Saviour's  Voice — O  God!  I  thank  Thee  —  for  the 
gift  of  Faith  —  without  which  —  there  is  no  —  under- 
standing!" 

The  gasping  breaths  grew  ever  fainter,  farther  apart.  The 
minutes  passed.  Only  the  stifled  sobs  of  the  prostrate  figure 
at  his  feet,  and  the  softly  chanted  prayer  were  now  audible. 
Then  the  murmured  words  ceased;  the  priest  rose,  and  gently 
closed  the  dark-fringed  eyes  and  laid  the  crucifix  between 
the  folded  hands. 

"Eternal  Rest  give  unto  him,  O  Lord,  and  let  Perpet- 
ual Light  shine  upon  him!"  he  prayed.  "For  with 
the  Lord  there  is  Mercy,  and  with  Him  is  plenteous 
Redemption!  Kyrie,  eleison!  Christe,  eleison!" 

Faith  stooped  to  kiss  the  marble  brow  and  brush  back 
the  sweep  of  iron-gray  hair.  "Sleep  in  peace,  dear  Youri," 
she  murmured.  "Sleep  in  peace,  and  wake  in  the 
Good  Shepherd's  Arms!  O  St.  George!  St.  George  the 


*"I  believe,  O  Lord!  and  I  confess."    The  first  words  of  the  Slavonic 
Act  of  Faith. 

423 


FAITH  BRANDON 

Victorious,  you  have  triumphed  over  the  world,  and  sin, 
and  death!  Pray  for  us,  that  we  who  are  left  may  follow 
where  Christ  would  have  us  go!  And  we  will  keep  your 
beloved  soul  in  everlasting  remembrance,  and  our  children 
after  us  shall  bless  your  name!" 

"Si  iniquitates  observaveris,  Domine, 

Domine,  quis  sustinebit? 
"Cor  contritum  et  humiliatum, 
Deus,  non  despicies!" 


THE    DAWN 


(I) 


I 


